


Heart and Soul

by etherina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Magical Pregnancy, Post-War, Severus Snape Lives, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:47:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 37,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22586605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherina/pseuds/etherina
Summary: She had rehearsed this. She really had. There was a whole speech written down on a note somewhere in her pocket, but instead of following her carefully constructed story, all that she managed to do was blurt out the end of it.“I’m pregnant.”SSHG HEA
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 396
Kudos: 925





	1. Takes Two to Tango

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!!  
> This is my first fanfic with this pairing but I've been reading a lot of SSHG for a few years now. Anyway, this story is probably not for everyone but I hope that at least some people will enjoy it!  
> I haven't read the HP books, only watched the movies and read fan works, and just did my best with getting the characters right (I think I did a pretty good job? lol)
> 
> This work is not beta-read (pls contact me if you're interested!) and, as usual, I do not own the HP universe yada yada.
> 
> Let's get started!

The late summer sun stood high in the sky, a thin layer of clouds broken by the beams of light shining down upon the castle. Hogwarts stood as proud as ever, unmoving in the gentle breeze.

 _Home,_ Hermione thought with a smile, beginning the trek up to the gates.

When the rebuilding of the school began last year it had felt an impossible task. Rubble had littered the grounds, smoke burning in her lungs with every inhalation, the sight of bodies forever branded in her mind.

But as time passed, each step forward had been a little easier to take. The haunting memories faded into distant nightmares, the wounds on her body turned to scars. Healing wasn’t an easy process but it was possible. Hope had slowly sprouted in the Wizarding World and soon enough it was in bloom.

The gates swung open at her approach and before she knew it she was standing in front of the gargoyle guarding the Headmistress’ office, watching it jump aside as she spoke the password.

Finally, she knocked on the heavy oak door.

“Enter,” Minerva Mcgonagall’s voice rang from inside.

“Good day, Headmistress,” Hermione said in greeting, closing the door behind her with a small push.

“Please, dear, how many times must I tell you to call me Minerva?” She rose quickly from her seat to envelop Hermione in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione laughed and sat down in the offered chair in front of the desk. “I suppose it’s just a habit by now.”

“I’ve been your Professor far longer than I’ve been Headmistress. I’m afraid your excuse is quite useless.” Minerva smiled and cast a quick look at the big antique clock hanging over the fireplace. “Poppy should arrive any minute.”

Just at that moment the fireplace flared green and Poppy Pomfrey stepped out, dusting ash off her shoulders.

“Speak of the devil...” Minerva mumbled and conjured a third chair.

“And she shall appear!” Madam Pomfrey said and turned to Hermione. “Hello, Miss Granger, good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you as well, Madam Pomfrey. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”

“Now,” Minerva started. “If you’d be so kind to explain what you’d like to discuss, Hermione?”

“Yes, of course,” she said quickly, taking a steadying breath, nervousness abruptly kicking in. _Oh, where to begin?_

She had rehearsed this. She really had. There was a whole speech written down on a note somewhere in her pocket, but instead of following her carefully constructed story, all that she managed to do was blurt out the end of it.

“I’m pregnant.”

Hermione grimaced at her own bluntness, her eyes meeting the ones of Minerva and Madam Pomfrey, bouncing back and forth between them, as if she was watching a tennis game.

Madam Pomfrey sputtered for a second. “I’m sorry, dear, could you repeat that?”

“I’m pregnant,” Hermione said again, panic suddenly settling in. _Oh god, I shouldn’t have told them. I should have run away to some Greek island and started singing ABBA songs for a living. How stupid am I? Thinking I could go back to school as if nothing has changed?_

“With _who?_ ” Minerva questioned.

“No one! There was no one else involved.” Her heart felt heavy in her chest and her palms turned clammy.

Their shocked faces turned confused and they eventually turned, exchanging a strange look with each other. Madam Pomfrey then reached a hand across the desk and Hermione took it instinctively.

Her voice was soft as she spoke. “Miss Granger, are you quite alright?”

“I...” Hermione snatched her hand back, suddenly feeling quite offended. “Yes, I am! And I’m not… I’m not _uneducated_ if that’s what you think! I know how babies are made!”

“Miss Granger, please calm yourself.”

“I’m sorry...” She covered her face with her hands, shoulders dropping with a sigh. “This came out all wrong, didn’t it?”

“I think it did,” Minerva said. “Please start from the beginning, dear, and perhaps we’d understand better.”

Hermione swallowed, forcing down the tears of frustration that welled up in her eyes, and looked back up. _Here goes nothing._

“My mum told me this a few years ago, right before I turned 16. She says hi by the way. Um, anyway, it turns out that all women in my family have, or had, a magical core.”

“But, you’re muggleborn,” Madam Pomfrey stated with a frown.

“Yes, but from what I gather it seems that their cores have all been dormant. It was just pure luck that mine was active. That’s why I’m a witch and they remained muggles.”

Minerva cleared her throat. “And how is this related to your pregnancy?”

“Well, my mum said that this knowledge has been passed down from mother to daughter for generations, she doesn’t quite know how far back it goes. She explained that once a woman in our family comes to a certain age of maturity, although that age has differed quite a lot from person to person, the core becomes activated in a sense. It sort of… splits up. The magic then needs somewhere to go and so it creates a duplicate of the original host. So, I’m basically pregnant with… me.”

She wrinkled her nose at her own words. _God, could you make it sound any weirder?_ Her cheeks burned as she continued. “Once the baby is born and completely free of the original host, or the mother I suppose I should say, it starts to mutate and allows the child to become its own person. Otherwise I’d just be an exact copy of my mum, which I’m not. We just look quite similar.”

She was met with silence and she bit her lip awkwardly. “Ta-dah?”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing before.” Madam Pomfrey rubbed her temples.

“I’m not lying! I wouldn’t do that, not about something this important.”

“We believe you, dear,” Minerva said with a reassuring nod. “This does, however, complicate things.”

“I know, but I want to continue my studies, and I want to keep her.” Her hand drifted to her stomach, palm firmly planted against her robes. “Even if I wanted an abortion, which I don’t, I’m not sure it would even work. Our cores are still connected and will stay that way until she is born.”

Minerva sighed, smiling sympathetically. “We understand, Hermione, and we wouldn’t ask that of you. I just hope you realise that being a single mother in the Wizarding World is vastly different from being one in the Muggle World. It is not widely accepted.”

She nodded, keeping her determined resolve. “I understand. I’ve done my research.”

“Who else knows?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“My parents.”

“No one else?”

She shook her head. “I haven’t dared to tell my friends yet, but I plan to. Sometime...” she drifted off, biting her lip again as they exchanged yet another look.

“We’ll do what we can to support you, dear,” Madam Pomfrey finally said and turned to her with a kind smile.

Minerva did the same. “Hogwarts will always be a home to you. We’ll make sure of it.”

Hermione felt like crying with relief.

* * *

A/N: I've never been pregnant myself and I just got all my info from Planned Parenthood lol, so if something is inaccurate in future chapters feel free to blame my research.


	2. Weather the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter is a bit short, but we're only getting started! Next week the story will progress a bit faster, I promise.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's left comments and kudos, I appreciate it more than you know!

Severus Snape was scowling down at the students from his seat at the high table, his mouth pressed in a thin line. Oh how he loathed teaching. Why had he even agreed to go back?

_Because Minerva asked you and you feel guilty about killing Albus, you fool._

The thought of it made his scowl deepen. He had never planned to survive the war and yet here he was, alive and well. Mostly.

His neck was scarred but had healed without any permanent damage to his voice. The lingering effects of Nagini’s venom made him feel sluggish at times but it was nothing a potion couldn’t remedy in an instant.

The only major damage was that of his mood. He had never been a particularly happy man and the war did not change that. Somehow, surviving it had made him even more miserable. At least when he was a spy he had distractions from his job as a Professor. Unpleasant ones, true, but distractions nonetheless.

Technically he hadn’t even started teaching again but it wasn’t too hard to imagine what it would be like. _Just the same thing over and over. Day in and day out. Oh, joy._

Gods, when was the last time he smiled? He couldn’t remember. It must’ve been years ago.

_Why the fuck did Potter come back for me?_ His jaw clenched. _He should’ve just let me die, let nature have its course._

“Severus,” Minerva mumbled from his left. “Do pay attention, will you?”

He merely grunted in response, shifting his dark gaze to the Sorting, watching Filius Flitwick place the Hat on each child in turn.

The group of first years was bigger than usual, making up for the time lost during the war and rebuilding of the school. An additional eighth year had even been added to give space for those who had missed their graduation.

Honestly it was all quite a mess and Severus hadn’t wasted much energy thinking about it. All he knew was that he’d have more assignments to grade and he’d have to deal with a two particular students he’d hoped to be rid of by now.

Longbottom seemed incapable of following the simplest of instructions and Severus dreaded having him in his class, but Minerva had forced him to accept the boy. And then there was Granger…

Granger was just bloody _infuriating._

He couldn’t quite put his finger on why she irked him so much. Was it that she never shut up? Or her know-it-all attitude? Perhaps it was that idiotic finger waggling she did when her hand shot up in the air.

He supposed he should be grateful that the whole Golden Trio wasn’t returning. She was the least annoying one of the three.

He blinked as large platters of food suddenly appeared before him and with a sigh he reached for the mashed potatoes. He wasn’t very hungry but starvation would hardly do him any favours.

“You could have at least _tried_ to look interested, Severus,” Minerva scolded as she helped herself to the roast beef.

“Really, Minerva, you should learn not to expect so much of me.”

She harrumphed indignantly. “Basic manners are hardly above you.”

Filius interjected from Minerva’s left, saving Severus from having to answer. “I heard Miss Granger visited the castle last week. How is she?”

“She is quite well, Filius. She had some concerns about her studies, that’s all.”

Severus sneered. “Did she come to beg for another Time Turner perhaps? The girl has never been good at making decisions, I would not be surprised if she has decided to take every class available _once again._ ”

Minerva gave him a stern look. “She has actually chosen only five subjects for her N.E.W.T.s this year. Transfiguration, Charms, Defence, Herbology, and Potions.”

“Excellent choices!” Filius piped up, looking quite pleased.

“Am I supposed to congratulate her for her restraint?” Severus asked.

“Not at all,” Minerva responded. “But perhaps _you_ could show some restraint yourself and not berate her for every choice she makes. Believe it or not, her goal in life is _not_ to win your approval.”

Severus snorted humourlessly into his cup, taking a long sip of his wine. “If you say so, Minerva.”


	3. Come Rain or Shine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for you!   
> Again, I don't have a beta, so if you see any mistakes please inform me so I can edit them!

The common room was bustling with life, the first years listening intently as the older students told stories of their past mischief, their eyes wide with awe.

Hermione sat in an armchair by the fire, knees tucked in under her, smiling secretly at them. The stories were bad influence, there was no doubt about it, but it wasn’t any less entertaining.

“What are you thinking about?” Ginny asked, plopping down in the sofa next to her.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just good to be back.”

Ginny scoffed. “Speak for yourself. I can’t wait for Christmas Holiday. I miss Harry already.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Come on, you miss him as well, I know you do!” She smirked, waggling her eyebrows. “Or maybe you miss _Ron_ even more...”

Hermione laughed and threw a pillow at Ginny, which she ducked effortlessly, grinning. “As a _friend_ I miss them both very much! As a _girlfriend?”_ She grimaced. “Dream on.”

“Well, Harry is mine so you stay in your lane!”

“So my lane is leading straight to Ron? Thanks but no thanks.”

Ginny snorted and picked up the pillow, holding it to her chest. “It’s a shame it didn’t work out between you two...”

“We were miserable together, Gin. I’m glad we broke it off when we did, or who knows what could have happened?”

“Yeah…” She looked down. “A divorce would have been messy.”

Hermione smiled and moved to join her on the couch, wrapping one arm around her shoulder to pull her close. “I know you wanted us to be family, but I already think of you as my sister.”

Ginny looked up, her eyes glimmering in the firelight. “Really?”

“Of course, Gin! You’re one of my best friends.”

Ginny threw her arms around Hermione’s neck, giving her a crushing hug. “I love you, Hermione.”

“I love you too. I’d love you more if you let me breathe, though.” Hermione laughed as Ginny instantly released her.

“Sorry,” she said, her cheeks tinted pink.

“Don’t worry about it. I quite like your hugs, but only in moderation.” She sighed and cast a quick tempus, seeing it was already 9pm. “Oh, I should head back to my room soon. It’s getting late.”

Ginny’s head dropped to the back of the couch as she slumped in her seat. “Ugh, I still can’t believe you get your _own room_ while I’m stuck in the dorm.”

“I’m sure you’ll live. Besides, you’re surrounded with people your age! I only have Neville, and he’s only taking two classes with me.”

“You _chose_ to come back, though. You could have become an Auror like Harry and Ron, or taken just about any job you wanted. You’re a war hero!”

“Which is precisely why I want to take my N.E.W.T.s and actually _earn_ a job. I don’t want the war to overshadow my academic journey.”

“You’re weird, Hermione.”

Hermione stuck out her tongue. “Whatever.”

“Fine then.” Ginny wiped her eyes with her sleeve, pretending to cry. “Leave me here. Go to your nice private room… Traitor.”

They both burst out in laughter.

~~~

Hermione’s Monday morning was spent hunched over the toilet seat, expelling what little food she had in her stomach. It was a stark contrast compared to the light-hearted feeling that had filled her the night before.

She was sweating all over, curly wisps of hair sticking to her temples, her guts deeply unsettled. _Oh god, how much longer will I have to endure this?_

She’d read that morning sickness could last all the way to week 15, sometimes even longer if one was unlucky. She’d also read that some women barely had any nausea at all and Hermione had hoped she’d be one of them. Now, only 6 weeks along, it was quite clear that she was _not_ one of those women.

Poppy had paid her a visit last week, arriving at her parent’s house for the first check-up.

Hermione was glad to hear that everything looked just fine, although dread had soon settled as Poppy explained that she did not have any potions to help relieve her symptoms. Too many potions contained harmful ingredients if ingested and the ones that were harmless were unfortunately quite disgusting, giving them no time to fully enter the system before they were thrown back up.

She just had to push through it.

Standing up on shaky legs, she turned to the sink to freshen up, wiping her face dry with a towel.

“You look good,” the mirror said.

“Thanks,” Hermione muttered, smiling wryly, ignoring that the mirror’s compliment was obviously a lie. “Winky?”

Winky popped into the room a second later. “What can Winky do for Miss?”

“Could I have a glass of pumpkin juice, please? And perhaps a light sandwich? I don’t really feel like going down to the Great Hall for breakfast.”

“Yes, Miss. Winky fixes.” With that, she was gone again.

Hermione sighed and headed over to her closet, changing out of her pyjamas and pulling on her Gryffindor uniform.

Minerva had insisted on assigning Winky to take care of her and although Hermione had been against it at first, she had finally relented. At least she knew that the house elf was being treated fairly this way, and it really was nice to have help, even if only to fetch something to eat.

Winky popped back in and left a small plate of sandwiches and a tall glass of pumpkin juice on Hermione’s bedside table. She disappeared before Hermione had time to offer her thanks.

She sat down at the edge of her bed, nibbling on some of the bread. Hermione doubted she could eat everything Winky had brought, and even if she could she probably wouldn’t be able to keep it all down.

Hermione’s private room was situated on the fifth floor, guarded by a portrait of a young woman reading underneath a willow tree. She didn’t speak, but she looked up at Hermione with a smile when she eventually left for Charms.

The day passed without major incident and Hermione only had to excuse herself to the bathroom once right after lunch. By the time dinner arrived she had regained her appetite again and served herself a healthy portion of food.

“Hey, Hermione,” Neville greeted as he took the seat to her left.

“Hey, Neville. How are you? I didn’t see you in the common room yesterday.”

“Oh, I’m good. I was just in the greenhouses, replanting some stuff.”

“You’ve started your homework already?” Hermione joked and he laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re one to talk, Miss I-do-My-Reading-Three-Weeks-In-Advance.”

“I don’t do that anymore, actually!” she countered while buttering her toast. “Now I do my reading four weeks in advance.”

“That’s the spirit!” He bumped her arm with his elbow and she snorted.

“Really though, Neville,” she sighed. “This year I’ll try to follow the instructions I’ve been given. That means no more sneaking around after curfew, no more 5 foot assignments, no more...” she drifted off, giving him an apologetic glance.

He put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Let me guess, you can’t help me out Potions class anymore?”

She nodded. “Precisely. It’s just… well, Professor Snape has never approved of me helping you and I don’t want to get on his bad side anymore.”

“It’s alright, Hermione. Really. It’s about time I did something by myself in that class.”

“Thanks, Neville. I’m glad you understand.”

He grinned at her. “If I can kill Nagini I’m sure I can face Professor Snape.”

Hermione took a moment to study him. He was no longer the lanky insecure boy she’d met in her first year. Instead he was tall and broad-shouldered, his smile shy and kind but still exuding an air of confidence, a sense of self-worth.

“What?” he asked with a confused look and Hermione shook her head to clear her thoughts. When had she gotten so pensive?

“It’s nice to see you stand up for yourself, Neville.”

“Well, it’s all talk so far.” He shrugged. “Potions starts tomorrow, I suppose we’ll see what happens then.”

“You’ll do great. I know you will!” she said in encouragement.

“Thanks.”

Ginny suddenly plopped down in the seat in front of them. “You won’t _believe_ the move I did at Quidditch practice today!”

“What did you do?” Hermione asked, despite not being that interested, and Ginny immediately started retelling the events, her hands gesturing wildly.

~~~

The next morning was much like the previous for Hermione, nausea roiling deep in her stomach.

She managed to recover in time to get down to Potions though, and Neville met her outside the classroom.

“Nervous?” she asked as they seated themselves at their individual worktables.

“A bit,” he admitted and gave her a tight smile.

“You can do this. Just don’t let him intimidate you.”

It was certainly easier said than done as Professor Snape entered just that second, striding in with quick steps, his robe billowing as the door slammed shut behind him. He turned sharply at the blackboard, his spiky writing appearing in chalk as he waved his hand.

His dark eyes swept over them one by one, piercing and sharp. The classroom was deathly silent.

“Wiggenweld Potion,” he said, his face stony. “What are you waiting for? Begin!”

The students scrambled to fetch the right ingredients, a line to the storeroom forming quickly. Hermione waited for a moment, allowing the rush to pass before she herself ventured in.

Professor Snape sneered down at her as she exited. “Last, Miss Granger?”

She clenched her jaw to stop herself from rising to the bait. “Yes, sir.”

He sneered, looking at her for just a touch too long, before he snapped into action, starting his prowl around the classroom to observe the students’ work.

Hermione resisted the urge to laugh as she placed her water filled cauldron on the burner, starting the process of chopping her ingredients.

She had changed from the war. She felt grown up now. The need to please wasn’t as overwhelming as before and the desire to be the _best_ wasn’t so important. But Severus Snape was still the same snarky Professor he’d always been.

That being said, Hermione still held great respect for him. Sure, he was mean and harsh, always barking orders with a stern intensity, but he wasn’t a bad teacher. Potions required focus, something that the majority of students sadly lacked. If he did not act as he did they could all get seriously hurt.

And by merlin, he was _brilliant._ The notes in his old potions book had been confusing at the time, but in hindsight Hermione recognised it for the ingeniousness it was. Creating spells and modifying potions at such an early age? She couldn’t help but be impressed, jealous even.

He had also been a spy for the Order, he had protected them, protected _Harry,_ despite the dangers that entailed. He had killed Albus Dumbledore though, but he’d been forced to do that.

Hermione thought that said more about Dumbledore than it did Professor Snape.

He was finally a free man, pardoned by the Wizengamot thanks to Harry’s defence of him. He had been through so much, and yet here he was, as if nothing had changed.

It was oddly comforting, now that her own world was slowly tilting on its axis.

Time passed quickly and before she knew it Hermione was adding the last herbs to her cauldron, stirring clockwise three times, and the potion turned deep green. She turned off her burner, set her tools aside, and poured the potion into a small vial right on time.

“Bring your vials up here,” Professor Snape said and the students moved hand him their samples.

Neville stepped in front of her, giving her a shy grin before he held out his vial to the Professor. He studied it for a moment, a snarl twisting his lips.

“Adequate,” he grunted, displeasure evident in his deep voice.

“Thank you, sir.” Neville didn’t stutter as he usually did and Hermione bit her lip to keep herself from beaming with pride.

Hermione stepped forward as Neville turned back to his seat, and Professor Snape quickly plucked the vial from her fingers. He shook it gently and then scoffed.

“Not your best performance, Miss Granger.”

She ignored the pang of disappointment at his words, her earlier good mood abruptly crushed. “If you say so, sir.”

His eyes narrowed. “Nothing more to say?”

“No, sir.”

He paused, seemingly contemplating what to respond, but ended up merely waving her off.

_At least Neville succeeded today,_ she thought while she started cleaning her desk.


	4. Judge a Book by its Cover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that the chapters aren't very long. My writing style is very scene-by-scene and that makes it difficult to write a lot unless I have lots of inspiration.  
> I might start updating twice a week in a while, depending on how far ahead I can manage to write. We'll see.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this new chapter!
> 
> Also,   
> TW for mentions of miscarriage (nothing graphic, at all, literally just a mention of it)  
> More graphic scenes might appear later on in this fic, so consider this the official warning!!!

“There you are, dear! Please, lie down,” Madam Pomfrey said, gesturing to one of the hospital beds as Hermione entered the infirmary that Friday evening. She did as bid, smoothing down her skirt once she was comfortable.

They were alone but Madam Pomfrey still drew the curtain close around them, shielding them from both view and hearing thanks to the silencing charms woven into the fabric.

Hermione gave her a nervous smile.

“How have you been feeling?” Madam Pomfrey asked as she held her wand over Hermione’s body, casting a basic diagnostic charm.

“I’ve been good, mostly. My nausea is the worst in the morning and I can’t really keep anything down until after lunch. But it’s not too bad. I try to just power through it.”

Madam Pomfrey frowned and wrote down a few notes in Hermione’s medical journal.

“I’m worried that you might lose weight if this continues... As you already know I can’t get you anything for the nausea specifically, but I believe an appetite enhancing potion might work. All of the ingredients should be safe to consume, if you just wait a minute I’ll see if I can find some.”

She pushed the curtain aside and headed for her office, returning with three purple vials in her hand. She put them all on the bedside table. “These were all I could find but I’ll ask Severus to brew some more to keep you stocked up.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Oh, you don’t have to do that, Madam Pomfrey! I’d hate to be a bother. I can manage just fine without it.”

Madam Pomfrey patted her good-naturedly on the arm. “I’m sure it’s not a bother at all, my dear. It is his job to brew the potions for the infirmary. And you may call me Poppy.”

“I just don’t want him to… suspect anything.” She smiled weakly. “I know it’s silly but I’m still gathering courage to even talk to my _friends_ about this.”

“I see. Well, you shouldn’t have to worry about that either. Appetite enhancers are used by more people than you might think. It is certainly not an indicator that you’re pregnant.”

“Alright… Thank you, Poppy,” she responded, although her anxiety about the matter didn’t quite go away.

“Not at all, dear. Now, you’re in week 6, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“That’s still quite early. Are you aware that the risk of miscarriage is higher in the first trimester?”

“Yes, I read about that. From what I know, however, it seems that none of my relatives have experienced a miscarriage when being magically pregnant. Problems have instead occurred later in the second or third trimester, but nothing too serious I think.”

“Interesting,” Poppy murmured and scribbled down some more notes. “Do you have any idea why that is?”

Hermione’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know… My mother sent me a few old notes that my great-grandmother had written down but it wasn’t enough to analyse, really.”

“We’ll keep up our weekly check-ups to make sure everything is progressing normally. If problems arise we’ll deal with them then. In the meantime you should write down any changes that occurs, as well as how you’re feeling each day. It might prove useful, if not to us then perhaps to future women of your bloodline.”

“Sounds good,” Hermione said with a nod, waiting patiently for Poppy to finish up the last diagnostic charm.

“There, all done. Nothing else noteworthy,” Poppy assured with a smile and pulled the curtain back, only to reveal a tall looming figure standing at the foot of the bed.

Professor Snape looked down at Hermione with a raised eyebrow and she suddenly felt very awkward just lying there atop the sheets. She sat up quickly, making a poor attempt to smooth her wild hair down at the back of her head, desperately ignoring how her cheeks burned.

“Medical problems, Miss Granger?” he asked with a twisted smirk and she felt her blush deepen.

“This is hardly any of your concern, Severus,” Poppy said. “What do you want?”

“I came to deliver the Pepper-Up potion you asked for and thought I’d inquire to see if you needed me to brew anything else?”

“Ah, yes. I think some more burn-paste will be needed soon. Pomona is showing the fifth years how to plant fire-nettles next week. I also require some more appetite enhancers.”

His gaze dropped to the purple vials on the bedside table before he locked eyes with Hermione. “Trouble eating? Do you fear you’ll inconvenience the house elves merely by asking for sustenance?”

She snatched up the vials, quickly packing them down in her book bag, as if he would forget he’d seen them if they were no longer visible. “No, sir, I-”

Poppy cut her off. “You don’t need to explain yourself, Miss Granger.” She glared at Professor Snape. “And _you_ should know better than to put your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

He glared right back, jaw clenching at the mention of his nose.

“Well...” Hermione said to break the sudden tension in the room. “I was just going. Thank you, Poppy.”

“Think nothing of it, dear.”

Hermione could almost feel Professor Snape’s gaze on her back as she left.

~~~

Severus watched as Miss Granger fled the Hospital Wing, not turning back to Poppy until she was out of sight.

Poppy was standing with both hands on her hips, frowning at him deeply. “Was that really necessary, Severus?”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Was _what_ necessary?”

“You know very well what I’m talking about young man! What right do you have to mock her like that?”

“Oh please, Poppy. It’s not as if she really suffers from it. She’s a Gryffindor, and part of the _Golden Trio_ for goodness sake.” He sneered. “She was placed on a pedestal the moment she was sorted and deserves to get knocked down a peg or two.”

Poppy shook her head, cleaning and straightening out the bedding Miss Granger had rumpled with a swift wave of her wand. “If you cared to open your eyes, Severus, you’d notice that Miss Granger already _has_ been knocked down quite a few pegs during the war.”

“Is that why she was here then? Lingering injuries from the battle?” he asked in a bored tone, although his ears were piqued for the answer. Of course, if anyone ever asked if he was curious about Miss Granger’s ailment, or whatever it was, he’d deny it fervently.

“I told you Severus, that is none of your business! My point is, she’s grown up. She isn’t the child you remember her to be and I think it’s about time you start treating her as an adult.”

“Spare me your scolding, Poppy,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “I left the Pepper-Up in your office cabinet. I’ll return with burn salve and appetite enhancers in a few days.”

He swept out of the infirmary without another word.


	5. Ignorance is Bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for yet another short chapter! I have to edit chapter 6 but I'll post that on Saturday, as a treat lol, bc I think you guys deserve it.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments! They mean the world to me!

Three weeks passed and Hermione felt sicker by the day. The appetite enhancing potions she’d received from Poppy made it easier to start eating, but it did nothing to prevent her from throwing it back up.

Poppy assured her that it was better to eat _something_ rather than avoiding food entirely in fear of feeling nauseous. Still, Hermione was not a fan of it.

Her breasts had also started getting tender, making it hard to sleep on her stomach like she preferred. Not that sleeping really helped anyhow, she was tired by 5pm no matter how many hours of rest she’d gotten the previous night.

There was a knocking on the door and Hermione closed her book with a sigh, placing it beside her. “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Ginny said. “Neville said you felt sick after Herbology. I just came to check if you’re alright?”

“You can come in,” Hermione called and the door swung inward. The girl in the portrait waved at Hermione before the door closed again.

“Hey… How are you feeling?” Ginny asked softly and came to sit on the edge of the bed, placing the back of her hand on Hermione’s forehead. “I don’t think you have a fever.”

“I’m alright, Gin. I’ve just been a bit nauseous, that’s all. I’m sure it’ll pass.” Hermione smiled weakly.

“Have you seen Madam Pomfrey about it?”

“Yes, don’t worry. She gave me some potions.”

“But they’re not helping?” Ginny’s brows were deeply furrowed. “I don’t think that’s a good sign, Hermione.”

“They are helping!” she said quickly. “I just don’t want to take too much.”

“If you say so...”

“Gin...” Hermione placed her hand on top of Ginny’s, giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a passing stomach bug.”

Ginny still didn’t look convinced. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? And you’d tell me if it was something serious?”

Hermione swallowed, guilt making her feel even worse than before. “Of course.”

“Good.” Ginny smiled at her. “Will you be coming to Transfiguration later?”

“I think I should rest… Would you mind telling Professor Raywood that I’m ill?”

She felt bad about skipping class, even though she knew it was for the best. After all, vomiting all over her desk would hardly give her an O.

“No problem. I’ll see you around, yeah?” Ginny stood and reached for the door handle.

“Thanks. And yeah, see you.”

The door closed behind Ginny and Hermione was alone once again.

She pulled her hand through her hair, her fingers getting stuck half-way in the curls.

She hated lying to Ginny. Her friend deserved to know the truth, but how could Hermione possibly explain when she barely understood it herself? Reality had yet to hit her completely.

She was with _child._ There was _life_ growing inside her, but all she could seem to focus on was the fact that she felt sick and she couldn’t go to class. It was hard to imagine that this baby girl was a person, that she would grow up and perhaps to to Hogwarts herself. She would get a job, have a family of her own, and live long after Hermione was gone.

It was almost unthinkable.

_Merlin… I’m going to be a mother._

The emotions coursing through her were hard to pinpoint but Hermione made no attempts to define them. She settled with simply smiling, placing both hands on her belly, almost feeling a small bump growing there already.

~~~

Severus was sitting by the fire in his private quarters, a tumbler of firewhisky cradled in his hand, his mind deep in thought.

After the evening he’d encountered Miss Granger in the Hospital Wing he had been intrigued. He told himself that his curiosity merely stemmed out of boredom, a mystery that he could spend his time solving, but deep down he knew it was becoming more than that.

Although he loathed to admit it, he was getting worried, and he had begun regretting his earlier scathing comments. After observing her in class, as well as during the few meals she attended, he could tell that whatever ailed her was getting worse.

She was often pale after eating, rushing to the bathroom less than 20 minutes after finishing. Was it an eating disorder? Somehow he doubted that was it.

A curse from the war? That seemed the most likely cause but despite his wide-range knowledge of dark curses, and quite a bit of additional research, he couldn’t find anything that matched her symptoms.

He was, in all honesty, dumbfounded.

_Perhaps_ _I_ _should ask Poppy for details..._

He scowled into his drink and firmly dismissed the thought. He’d be cold in his grave before he confessed he needed _help_ with something. No, he had to figure out what it was by himself.

He finished the last of his whisky with a gulp.


	6. Insult to Injury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this bonus chapter is like 2 days late!!! The weekend was busy :/  
> Hey, it's here tho!! Next update will be on Thursday as usual ;)
> 
> Enjoy!!

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the page, trying desperately to focus on what was written, but she kept getting distracted by her roiling stomach.

_Ten more minutes,_ she thought, clenching her jaw to fight off the nausea.

Why did it have to happen now? She’d felt fine all day but now, right in Potions class, she felt sick again? _Ugh._

She was lucky Professor Snape had simply assigned reading for today. If they’d been brewing and cutting up slugs and beetle eyes for ingredients she wasn’t sure she would have been able to last this long without vomiting all over the place.

_Nine minutes…_ She made a small noise in her throat as her stomach churned unexpectedly, the sound uncomfortably loud in the otherwise silent room. Neville looked up from his own book, eyes seeking hers.

“Are you okay?” he whispered and she nodded, forcing her lips into a smile. She could feel sweat beading on her forehead.

He frowned. “You don’t look so good...”

“I’m fine.” Just as she said so she felt bile rising up her throat and she covered her mouth with her hand, groaning as she swallowed it down.

“Miss Granger?” Professor Snape said, looking at her curiously from behind his desk. “Is something the matter?”

It was odd to hear him ask something so calmly but Hermione had no time to ponder it as she could feel the bile rising up again.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped and bolted out of the classroom, making it only a few steps out the corridor before it all came out, a sickly orange colour covering the stone floor in front of her. She fell to her knees, arms supporting her as she heaved.

“I got you,” Neville’s voice came from behind and she felt him pull her hair out of the way, holding it together at the base of her neck. She heaved again. “That’s it, let it out and you’ll feel better.”

She breathed heavily from her mouth, tears streaming down her face. _Oh god… If only I could have held it in a moment longer…_

After a minute Neville helped her stand and she reluctantly looked up at Professor Snape who was standing to the side, a grimace on his face.

“If you’re ill, Miss Granger, you should not have come to class.” He looked down at her vomit with disgust, vanishing the mess with a wave of his wand. “20 points from Gryffindor.”

Neville bristled but she held him back with a firm grip on his elbow. “I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

Professor Snape’s eyes drifted over her, his disgusted look not changing. “See that it doesn’t. Longbottom, help Miss Granger to her room.”

He then swept back into the classroom, the door closing with a bang.

Neville glared after him. “Git.”

“Don’t say that, Neville.” She wiped her face and mouth clean with a handkerchief she’d found in her pocket, vanishing it as she was done. “He’s right.”

“It wasn’t your fault!”

“He didn’t say it was. He just pointed out that I should have stayed in my room to recover instead of going to class. There’s a difference.”

“He shouldn’t have taken points, though!”

“Well… I can agree with that, but it doesn’t matter. Could you just please help me get to bed?”

“Oh, right, yeah of course.”

She smiled at him in thanks and they both began the trek up to her room.

~~~

Hermione was curled up under her covers, feeling much better already, even though it had been no more than an hour since Neville had left her. Of course, he’d needed some convincing to leave her in the first place.

He’d insisted on staying and hadn’t relented until Hermione mentioned having _“_ _lady issues”._ At that, his ears had turned red and he’d fled out the door with a mumbled apology.

Finally alone, Hermione tried to take a nap but found that sleep eluded her despite her exhaustion after the long day. Reading did her no good either, as it only reminded her of the embarrassment she’d just faced in Potions.

She wasn’t sure if she felt anxious or relieved as her fireplace suddenly lit up with green flames.

“Hermione?” Minerva said through the floo. “Can I come in? Poppy is with me.”

“Yes, come in,” she said and the two women stepped through.

“We heard about what happened in Potions,” Poppy said, coming to place a conjured glass of water on her bedside table, a sympathetic look on her face. “Are you feeling alright?”

Hermione smiled weakly. “Yes, I’m much better now. I just think I needed to get it out of my system. I’m quite embarrassed, though...”

“Nonsense,” Minerva spoke up. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You can’t control such things.”

“Neville said so as well, but… I still feel that way. I mean, Professor Snape was there and he took house points and-”

“He took _what?”_ Minerva interrupted, her mood abruptly thunderous.

Hermione’s mouth popped open in surprise at the Headmistress’ tone. “He… He took house points. I’m sorry Minerva I didn’t mean to-”

“She’s not mad at you, dear,” Poppy said quickly.

“Oh that _infuriating_ man, I swear I’ll hex his-” Minerva’s mouth tightened to a thin line and she met Poppy and Hermione’s eyes. “Excuse me but I’m afraid I have to sort some things out.”

With that she strode back to the fireplace, taking a fistful of floo powder from the bowl on the mantelpiece and throwing it into the flames.

“Severus Snape’s quarters!” she snapped and disappeared.

Poppy sighed deeply. “Oh he’s in for it now...”

Hermione looked at her with wide eyes, heart hammering in her chest. “I didn’t mean to get him in trouble like that.”

“Don’t worry about it. He did that to himself, the foolish man. Now, would you mind if I check you over quickly?”

Hermione allowed the mediwitch to do her work and it was over in just a few minutes.

“You’re in perfect health, dear. The baby is as well.”

“Thank you, Poppy, I-”

There was a loud knocking on the door and Hermione resisted a groan. _Ugh, who is it now?_ Her heart was warmed by the fact that people cared enough about her to inquire about her health, but it was getting exhausting quickly.

“Hermione? Please let me in!”

Hermione looked at Poppy apologetically before spelling the door open, revealing Ginny standing in the hall, fist half-raised and ready knock again. Her eyes widened as she spotted Poppy.

“Oh… hello Madam Pomfrey. I’m glad you’re here already, I actually went to the Hospital Wing first because I thought Hermione might be there but she wasn’t so I ran all the way over here and...” Her cheeks tinged pink when she finally finished rambling. “So… yeah.”

Hermione stifled a giggle with her hand but Poppy merely smiled. “Hello, Miss Weasley, good to see you too. I was actually just leaving. You girls have a good day, but keep in mind that you need to rest, Miss Granger.”

“Of course, Poppy. Thanks again.”

Once the door closed and Ginny raised an eyebrow.

“...Poppy?”

Hermione shrugged. “She told me to call her that.”

Ginny shook her head and took Poppy’s previous spot beside her.“How are you?”

“Merlin, I’ve heard that a lot today...” Hermione smiled encouragingly. “I’m okay, Gin. Just feeling a bit under the weather.”

“Oh, come off it!” Ginny cried out, her Gryffindor temperament almost as intense as Minerva’s. “You’ve said you’re fine for weeks now but you only seem to be getting worse!”

“It’s alright, really,” Hermione tried to reassure her but to no avail.

“No it’s not! You said you’d be honest with me! I don’t want to feel so useless, Hermione. I want to help you. Please let me...”

“I...” Hermione felt tears burning her eyes.

Of course, she’d been planning on telling her friends, Ginny included, _someday_. But it felt so sudden now, so impulsive. _Just tell her. You can’t keep this a secret forever._ _You want her to know, don’t you?_

She took a shuddering breath.“Ginny, I need to tell you something. But you have to promise that it won’t leave this room.”

Ginny leaned forward, taking Hermione’s hand in a firm grip, her eyes shining with worry. “I promise.”

“I’m pregnant.”


	7. Fuel to the Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter here for you all! Again, it's kinda short, but I'm hoping you'll forgive me considering I gave you a bonus chapter last Monday ;) lol  
> Next update will be in a week as per the usual schedule. I have quite a bit to edit and write ahead.
> 
> Enjoy!

Severus’ floo flared green and he had to take several steps back to avoid getting knocked over by the raging witch charging against him.

“SEVERUS SNAPE HOW DARE YOU!? You should be ASHAMED of yourself!”

He sneered at Minerva, instinctively backing around the couch to keep his distance. By _merlin_ she was mad.

_Self-preservation, not fear,_ he told himself in his retreat. “Calm yourself, woman! What in the bloody hell are you even talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about! Taking house points from Miss Granger over something she had no control over? Consider yourself lucky I haven’t vanished your tongue already!”

“The girl will get over it!” he snapped in defence but Minerva did not relent.

“She does not deserve such treatment, especially not in the condition she’s in! You better give those points back RIGHT NOW, young man!”

“FINE! 10 points to Gryffindor.” He silenced Minerva’s retort with a snarl. “I will give back the rest once you _stop shouting.”_

That finally made her shut up, her lips pressing in a thin line of disapproval. “Alright. No more shouting. What do you have to say for yourself?”

He sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. _Heaven forbid I point out the wrongdoings of one of her precious cubs._

“I took the points because it was foolish of her come to class to begin with! She should have stayed in her room if she felt sick instead of making a mess in the dungeons. Now, perhaps you could tell me what _condition_ she’s in exactly? I haven’t been informed about _anything_ that’s going on!”

She waggled a threatening finger at him. “Don’t you try that with me, Severus! I’ve heard from Poppy that you were snooping around trying to learn about Miss Granger’s secret weeks ago and-”

“So it _is_ a secret then?” he glared at her. “How bloody enlightening.”

“It is not mine to tell!” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “I can’t understand why you’re so interested anyhow.”

His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles turning white.

“Hasn’t Poppy given her any potions to keep the contents of her stomach where they are supposed to be? And if she _has_ why the fuck aren’t they _working?”_ He scoffed mockingly. _“_ Not that I expect you to understand, but as a Potions Master that concerns me, and more importantly it concerns _my reputation_ considering I am the one responsible for brewing said potions!”

“How TYPICAL of you! Only thinking about yourself.” Minerva barked out a humourless laugh. “I’m warning you now though, Severus— _stay out of it._ And leave Miss Granger alone from here on, do you understand me?”

“Perfectly.” He threw himself down in his armchair, feeling like a child having tantrum, making him even more enraged. Minerva stepped over to the floo but she did not step through before he mumbled, _“10 points to Gryffindor”._

Then, finally, he was alone once again.

_Fuck._ What a mess.

He had been woefully unprepared for this argument. In hindsight, he realised that he should have anticipated it. Minerva had always been fiercely protective of her favourite Gryffindors, and there was no doubt that Miss Granger was the queen of that particular group.

He was quite certain that Minerva did not suspect his true concern in the matter however. He’d argued as carefully as he could to find out more information about Miss Granger’s situation, or _condition_ as Minerva had labelled it, while managing to keep most his cards close to his chest.

Of course, he didn’t _really_ care about his reputation. He was an ex-Death Eater, his reputation was hardly something that could be saved at this point, but it was a good excuse. It was all too easy to play on Minerva’s prejudice about Slytherins.

Naturally, all Slytherins were _selfish._

Deep down, perhaps it _was_ selfish of him to be so desperate to unravel this mystery. Perhaps he’d merely shrug his shoulders once he found out the truth and move on with his life, having solved the puzzle. But he hoped that would not be the case, he hoped he was better than that.

He was a bloody potions master, surely he could help? No one had asked him though, and maybe that was the worst insult of them all.

_After everything, they still don’t trust me._

He strode across the room, opening his liquor cabinet and pouring himself a glass of firewhisky, taking a swallow of it before even sitting down.

There was clearly something wrong with the girl. Vomiting like that simply wasn’t normal, especially not when it had been going on for weeks—and he was rather sure it had. Why else rush to the bathroom after every lunch?

She’d been awfully pale lately as well, eyes occasionally bloodshot and the beginnings purple marks beneath revealing her lack of sleep.

He knew Poppy was involved in treating her but the mediwitch’s expertise was obviously not helping much.

The thought of breaking into Poppy’s office and stealing Miss Granger’s medical file crossed his mind but he dismissed the idea as quickly as it came. He wouldn’t invade the girl’s privacy like that, it was a step too far even for him. But _something_ had to be done.

_And Minerva wants me to leave the girl alone._ He scoffed. _Like hell I will._


	8. Better Late Than Never

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh, I'm not really happy with how this chapter turned out, but I also feel no huge need to edit it even more. I feel like I've done what I can and even though I wish it could be better, I don't have inspiration to improve it lol
> 
> I think it's decent enough to post tho hahah, I hope you guys like it anyway!

“So...” Ginny finally spoke, having been silent for a long time after Hermione’s explanation. “You’re _sure_ Ron’s not the father?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, sighing. _We’ve been over this already, Gin. Try to keep up._ “I’m one hundred percent sure he’s not the father. No one is the father.”

“...And you’re happy? You’re ready to be a mother?”

Hermione bit her lip, looking down in her lap where her hands were twisting nervously. “I wish I could say I was ready, but I’m not sure I am yet. I’m happy, though. I want this baby and I’ll figure everything out eventually, just like I always do.”

Ginny blinked numbly, shaking her head. “This is insane.”

“It is.” Hermione could do nothing but agree.

“But... I guess if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.”

“Really?” As Ginny nodded, Hermione enveloped her in a crushing embrace, abruptly breaking down in tears, surprising even herself at the relief she felt. “Oh thank you, Gin!”

Ginny hugged her back with a giggle, patting Hermione’s back soothingly. “You don’t have to thank me, Hermione! I will always support you.”

Hermione pulled back, sniffling. “I know but I was just so afraid that you’d turn your back on me… I mean, it’s not like this situation is normal! And being a single mother in the Wizarding World is basically unheard of.”

“You’re my best friend, I’ll never abandon you when you need me. I just wish you’d told me sooner.” She smiled. “That could have saved me a lot of worrying.”

Hermione laughed, wiping the tears with her sleeve. “I do too, Gin. Believe me.”

“So all this time you’ve just been having morning sickness?”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty bad...”

“Does Madam Pomfrey know?”

“Oh, yes she knows everything. I spoke with her and Minerva before school started and they made sure that I had everything I needed. I meet Poppy weekly for my check-ups.”

“But you still feel sick all the time?”

“Well, not _all_ the time. Just… often.”

Ginny grimaced. “That blows. There’s nothing you can take that will help?”

  
  


“No. The potions available for that sort of thing are not suitable for pregnant women. I just have to deal with it.” She shrugged helplessly. “You wouldn’t know a way of feeling better, would you?”

She meant it as a joke but Ginny looked thoughtful.

“ _I_ don’t, but I think my mum could have a trick or two up her sleeve...”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “We can’t ask her! She’ll suspect something!”

“She won’t _suspect_ anything if you just tell her the whole truth. You might not be together with Ron anymore but she still thinks of you as a part of the family. She’d help you without question!”

“Yes but…” she faltered, a knot of worry tightening in her chest.

“But what? You told _me_ already.” Ginny smoothed Hermione’s hair down with a soft touch. “I know you’re scared, Hermione, but it’ll come out eventually. Wouldn’t you rather do it on your own terms?”

Ginny was right, of course, but it was one thing to think about it and another to actually do it.

Hermione let herself fall back on the bed in defeat,her head hitting the pillow with a soft thump. “I’ll think about it, alright?”

“Good. Now, how about a sleepover?” She grinned. “Winky!”

~~~

Despite Poppy’s reassuring words that everything looked just fine, Hermione still felt horribly sick days later. She’d hoped that the symptoms would lessen now that she was 11 weeks along but instead the problems just kept piling up.

Her breasts were growing and she had to start transfiguring her bras to fit, though they still ached no matter what she wore. She had a harder time sleeping as well, twisting and turning far more than usual.

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, but Hermione merely squinted at the sun shining through her window. She wanted more than anything to crawl deeper under the covers and recover from the exhaustion that had settled in her body.

She groaned and finally managed to drag herself out of bed, admitting a begrudging defeat.

Ginny was right. She couldn’t go on like this, feeling sick all the time. It was time to face Molly Weasley.

Within an hour Hermione had showered and dressed, twisting her hair in a bun before stepping through the floo, emerging in the Headmistress’ office.

“Hermione!” Minerva looked up in surprise. “Is something the matter?”

“No, no. Everything is fine. I was just wondering if I could possibly use your floo to visit the Burrow today? I need to meet with Molly to… ask for advice.”

Minerva nodded in understanding. “I see. Would you like some company?”

“I was thinking of asking Ginny to join me.”

“Of course. Winky!” Winky popped in instantly, bowing to both Hermione and Minerva.

“Headmistress called for Winky?”

“Could you please find Miss Weasley and ask her to join us here in my office?”

“Yes, Headmistress. Winky is being quick!”

As the elf disappeared, Minerva gestured to the empty seat by the desk. “Sit down, dear. Tea?”

Hermione nodded in thanks, waiting patiently for Ginny to arrive. She didn’t have to wait long as she came through the door only 15 minutes later.

“Hi...” Ginny said, looking confused.

“Good Morning, Miss Weasley,” Minerva greeted and nodded for Hermione to speak.

“The Headmistress is letting me use the floo to visit your mum, and I was hoping you would come with me?”

“Oh, yes, no problem!” Ginny’s expression brightened immediately. “Are we leaving right now?”

“If that’s alright with you.”

“Sure!” Ginny practically bounced over to Hermione, grabbing her elbow as they headed to the fireplace.

“Thank you, Minerva!” Hermione called over her shoulder and disappeared in a whirl of green flames.

When she stepped out into the Burrow’s sitting room she sent a quick glare over at Ginny. “You’re _way_ too happy about this.”

“I’m just glad you’re getting the help you need.” Ginny smirked. “And admitting that I was right.”

“Who is it?” Molly called from the kitchen just as Arthur stepped into the room, dressed in only pyjama pants and a muggle band t-shirt.

“Oh! Ginny, Hermione! What are you two doing here?” He came up to greet them both with a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“We’re here to see mum. It’s important so Mcgonagall let us use her floo.”

“Nothing serious I hope?” He gazed worriedly at them.

Hermione smiled tightly. “Nothing to concern yourself with.”

He nodded, not looking convinced, when Molly bustled in.

“Arthur I asked you who it was! I expect you to answer me when-” she stopped when she spotted Hermione and Ginny. “Why are you two girls not in school? It might be a Saturday but you have no reason to leave the castle!”

“Actually mum, we came to speak with you. Or, rather, Hermione came to speak with you.”

“Oh? About what?”

“I’d like to take it in private… No offence Arthur.”

He held up his hands, smiling. “Alright, alright. I can take a hint.”

Although Arthur was one of the friendliest people Hermione knew, and he felt almost like an uncle to her, she still thought the whole situation would be terribly uncomfortable with him there. Not that it would be much better with only Molly.

She felt her palms starting to sweat as the three of them sat down. Ginny squeezed her hand supportively and Hermione began to speak.

It ended up taking over an hour to explain everything as Molly kept interrupting with questions and, to some degree, hysterics. Hermione was almost certain Arthur must have heard her shout _‘WHAT?!’_ even through the silencing charm Ginny had put up.

Eventually Molly calmed down and after listening dutifully to the whole story, she’d smiled proudly at Hermione, tears shining in her eyes.

“Oh, my dear girl.” Her hug was warm and tight, a silent promise of support. “I have just the thing.”

Both girls followed her as she marched into the kitchen, watching as she retrieved a battered tin jar from one of the cabinets.

Arthur looked up from his newspaper, his questioning gaze directed at Molly. “Everything alright?”

“Never you mind, Arthur,” she said shortly and handed Hermione the jar. “Now, dear, all you need to do is make one cup of tea each evening, make sure to use at least one tablespoon of tea leafs, and you’ll be right as rain. The nausea should lessen almost immediately and you’ll finally get a good night’s sleep.”

“How did you know this tea would work for you?” Hermione asked, curious, and Molly smiled.

“Trial and error, my dear. I only managed to create the perfect blend by the time I had Ron.”

“Molly?” Arthur asked, his widening eyes fastened on the jar. “What is going on?”

“Didn’t I _just_ tell you to stay out of it, Arthur?” Molly glared at him. “I’ll tell you about it later!”

Arthur hid behind his newspaper.

“Thank you, Molly. I can’t express how much your help means to me.”

“You’re family, Hermione.” Molly patted Hermione’s cheek lovingly. “We will always be here for you.”

Hermione and Ginny left moments later, leaving Molly to retell the story to her husband. Although Hermione felt slightly guilty that she wasn’t there to tell Arthur herself, even though it would be awkward, her excitement over the herbal tea Molly had gifted her overpowered any other emotion.

She returned to the castle with a wide smile on her face, her near future finally feeling as bright as it should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know things moved on kinda quickly (Ginny knowing abt the pregnancy and now Molly+Arthur too in just one chapter) but I think I needed to speed that up a bit. I don't want to have too much filler.  
> Let me know what you guys thought! 
> 
> Depending on how my fast I can edit and write ahead, you might get a bonus chapter this weekend. No promises though!


	9. Nip it in the Bud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra chapter here for you!   
> I figured it might be appreciated now in quarantine-times. Things aren't super serious where I live yet so I'm still working as usual, just with extra precaution.  
>  I hope you guys are staying safe and healthy!

Hermione basked in the morning sunlight, smiling contently, her toes curling as she stretched beneath her covers.

Over a week had passed since Molly had given her the special tea blend and Hermione was finally starting to feel like herself again. Well, herself plus one.

The tea was certainly not a cure-all, but her nausea had disappeared completely and sleeping came a lot easier to her now. Her breasts still ached somewhat, and she often felt out of breath after walking up and down the numerous stairs in the castle, but it really wasn’t so bad.

Without extreme symptoms she could actually _enjoy_ the changes her body was going through. Sure, it was still uncomfortable sometimes, but it was worth it. If she placed her hand on her stomach she could feel a slight bump, and each time she did so her heart swelled with joy.

Before, it had felt like a challenge that needed to be overcome, but with the support of Ginny, Molly, Arthur, Poppy, Minerva, and her parents it was easier to just relax and accept it for what it was—an experience.

Of course, she still had plenty of people that did not know of her secret. She had meant to write to Harry and Ron to meet up sometime but they were so busy with Auror training and she didn’t want to bother them. Her letters stayed mundane.

Her parents wrote often though, detailing the progress of moving back to England. They had just sold their clinic in Australia and was currently looking for a permanent place to stay in London. Their old house was gone, burned down by the Death Eaters during the war when they had found the house empty, but they weren’t too upset about it.

They had even gotten over the fact that Hermione had obliviated them rather quickly, to her surprise.

Hermione sighed. Everything was indeed looking brighter now.

She cast a quick tempus and her good mood disappeared instantly.

_I’m late!_

She scrambled out of bed, yanking on her uniform hastily, and in less than a minute she was out the door, running towards the dungeons. _Oh why, why, why?_

It wasn’t until she reached the classroom door, knocking on it sharply, that she realised that running there might not have been such a good idea after all.

The door was yanked open and Professor Snape glared down at her. “You’re late, Miss Granger. 10 points from Gryffindor.”

She was panting hard, struggling to catch her breath after her sprint. “I’m… sorry, sir.”

She blinked, her vision turning blurry. _Definitely not a good idea to run._

“Well?” he snapped. “Are you going to stand there all day?”

“I...” She had to steady herself on the door frame to keep from falling over. Her head was spinning and there was something warm trickling down from her left nostril. She tasted iron as it reached her lips.

“Miss Granger?” Professor Snape said and she felt her knees falter, but he caught her before she hit the floor. She tried to gasp out an apology, or perhaps a thank you, but only managed to make an odd choking noise.

He then swept her up in his arms, one hand held firmly against her ribs to clutch her against him, the other holding her legs. She heard him bark out orders to her classmates but didn’t listen to what was being said. She was too busy focusing on her breathing.

_In. Out. In. Out. That’s not so hard, is it?_

She couldn’t remember when she’d closed her eyes, but she opened them just in time to see Poppy hurrying towards her. “What’s happened?”

Professor Snape lay her down on one of the beds as Hermione’s thoughts finally started clearing up.

“The girl arrived in the dungeons, got a nosebleed, and promptly _collapsed._ ”

Hermione didn’t think she’d ever heard her Professor sound so furious.

“Hermione, can you hear me?” Poppy asked and placed a hand on Hermione’s clammy forehead.

“Yes, Poppy. I’m sorry I… I was late for class so I ran over there as quickly as I could. I-”

“You _ran?_ Oh, sweet Circe, girl. You’ve exhausted yourself!”

Hermione’s face flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

Professor Snape snorted humourlessly. “That’s a first.”

Poppy turned to glare at him. “You’re not helping, Severus.”

“Perhaps you should tell me how I _can_ help then!”

“You can help by going back to the other students in your class and make sure they don’t blow themselves up! Miss Granger needs to rest.”

Hermione only saw his thunderous expression for a second before he turned away, storming out of the Hospital Wing.

“Don’t mind him, dear,” Poppy said and conjured a basin filled with water, dipping a wash cloth into it to clean the blood off Hermione’s face. “Now, what on earth persuaded you to run all the way to the dungeons?”

“Well, as I said, I was late and I figured I didn’t want to be even _later._ It was stupid of me, I know...”

“It was indeed. I thought you had better sense than that.” Poppy then cast a quick diagnostic charm, a faint white light glowing over Hermione’s body. “Luckily though, no harm was done.”

“What about the nosebleed?”

“Simply a result of expanded blood vessels being put under more pressure.”

“Right… I think I read about that.”

Hermione smiled in thanks as Poppy left her to rest, silently vowing to herself to be more careful in the future _._ Perhaps she’d re-read her pregnancy books. After all, one could never be prepared enough.

_~~~_

Severus swept through the corridors, students leaping out of the way to avoid his fury, but he himself barely even realised he’d been moving until he was standing in his classroom.

The students looked up at him as he barged through the door, eyes widening as he snarled, “OUT!”

“But, sir, we only just started...” a Slytherin boy dared to say and Severus’ glare nearly made him fall from his seat.

“I said, OUT!”

This time no one protested and they shuffled out as quickly as they could. Severus waved a hand at the door once the room was empty, the door slamming shut and locking itself.

He stood behind his desk, fuming, resisting the urge to pull his hair out.

“FUCK!” he shouted and flung his chair aside with a forceful wave of magic before sinking to the floor, head held in his hands. A part of him didn’t understand why he was so upset, but another part knew all too well.

He’d noticed her get better over the last week and despite not knowing the cause of her illness to begin with, he’d been pleased to find that she was recovering. But seeing her collapse like that, blood trickling from her nose... The emotion he’d felt wasn’t something he liked to familiarise himself with...

_Fear._

He’d been afraid she was getting worse again. Hell, he’d been afraid she would _die,_ and he wouldn’t be able to help because he didn’t know what the _fuck_ the problem was to begin with.

When he’d finally carried her all the way to the hospital wing and she already looked more awake, not at all on the brink of death like in his imagination, he’d felt like a sodding idiot.

He’d been in a _war_ for Merlin’s sake, seen worse things than a fainting girl during his Death Eater meetings, but he somehow couldn’t control his horror when it came to Hermione Granger? _Bloody ridiculous, that’s what it is._

He was angry at himself for being so weak-minded, and angry at _her_ for making him feel like this.

Of course, there had to be a rational explanation to these emotions, he reasoned. It was most likely just stress causing it. He’d been so worked up about this whole situation that now he couldn’t think straight, the worst possible scenarios constantly running through his head.

_Or, perhaps, you’re starting to care for her._

He squashed that thought without hesitation. _She means nothing to me, and I mean nothing to her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dramatic, I know lol


	10. Fish Out of Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a moment to thank everyone who's left comments and kudos so far! It makes me so happy that you are liking this story and your thoughts and speculations never fail to make me smile.
> 
> Now, time for a new chapter!

Hermione let her hand drift over the shelved books, fingers tracing the letters lightly, but her eyes were directed elsewhere. She hoped her hair shielded her gaze, although knowing the subject of her curiosity she was almost certain he knew she was watching him anyway.

Severus Snape stood only a few meters away from her, perusing a tome he’d picked from the shelf. He looked absorbed in the text, but his past as a spy surely made him more aware of his surroundings than people thought.

Hermione had noticed him in the library more often than usual the past month.

It had all started one Sunday afternoon as she was seated at one of the tables, quietly researching a spell for her Transfiguration homework. A shadow had stopped to loom over her and she’d looked up in surprise, meeting the dark eyes of the Potions Master.

“Miss Granger,” he’d said with a sneer and then kept moving, swiftly leaving the library.

At the time, Hermione hadn’t thought much of his odd greeting, but as time passed it became more and more strange. Suddenly it was rare that they were both in the library and he didn’t address her somehow.

Sometimes he only sent her a glare, while other times it was a cutting remark. Occasionally, he even offered a _‘good morning’,_ although it was heavily laced with sarcasm. Hermione’s curiosity was thus piqued.

She couldn’t say she’d ever really thought about his presence before, likely because if he found himself in a public space such as this he always tended to ignore his students, and they ignored him in turn. His sudden change of character against her was... odd, to say the least.

She didn’t know for sure what she’d done to provoke him—and it was clear that he indeed had been provoked somehow—but she assumed it had something to do with her practically fainting in his arms.

...And throwing up outside his classroom.

After all, his strange behaviour had begun shortly after that.

Hermione feared that he knew something about the pregnancy and she had brought up the matter with Poppy, but the mediwitch had been adamant that he did not know. Hermione was still not convinced.

Poppy had, however, revealed that Professor Snape was indeed interested in Hermione’s condition. She said he’d been asking questions, both to her and to Minerva, and this made Hermione even more worried.

It wasn’t that she was _ashamed_ of her child, quite the opposite, but she did not want the news to come out prematurely. Enough people knew already, and Hermione had to gather courage before she revealed it to yet another person.

Besides, Professor Snape was hardly a person she had to tell _personally._ He could bloody well read it in the Daily Prophet once the media found out. She didn’t owe him an explanation.

“Daydreaming, Miss Granger?”

She jumped at the sound of his voice, her hand clutching her chest to slow her suddenly racing heart. His eyes were narrowed at her, coldly calculating in their path over her body. She crossed her arms self-consciously.

“No, sir,” she replied and he raised an eyebrow in response.

“I see.”

He left, just as he always did, and Hermione sighed.

He was suspicious of her, she just knew it. After all, her body had changed a lot in the past week alone. Soon enough she wouldn’t be able to hide the fact that she was with child, it would be obvious, and Professor Snape’s keen eyes didn’t miss much.

_I have to see Minerva,_ she thought and quickly set off toward the Headmistress’ office.

_~~~_

Minerva frowned, her wand held firmly in her hand.

“I suppose a good notice-me-not would work but even then… it will be visible within a few more weeks.”

“I know.” Hermione bit her lip. “I just need a little more time to come to terms with it all. I mean, Harry and Ron don’t even know yet! I don’t want them to find out last...”

“I understand. Very well then, I’ll do my best. Filius is the expert when it comes to charms but I’m by no means an amateur.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

After a minute of intricate movements and weaved strings of light settling over Hermione’s body, Minerva finally tucked her wand back in her sleeve.

“There,” she said. “All done.”

Hermione looked down at herself in confusion. “I don’t see a difference.”

“The charm will only affect those who do not already know of the pregnancy. I thought it prudent that Poppy in particular be able to observe you properly during your check-ups.”

“Oh, I see... Any chance you could teach me how to modify a charm like that?” Hermione asked with a shy smile and Minerva laughed.

“Always eager to learn.”

~~~

Hermione was chatting amiably with Neville when the DADA Professor Armand Hawthorn walked in, clapping his hands to silence the students.

“Good afternoon everyone! Have you all done your reading?” There was a murmur of affirmation and the Professor nodded, pleased. “Good! Then we can begin with the practical exercises! Who wants to try to demonstrate first?”

To Hermione’s surprise, and delight, Neville’s hand shot up.

“Mr Longbottom! Excellent! Please step forward and attempt a non-verbal and wandless accio.”

Neville stepped up to the front and held his hand out toward his desk. With a twisting movement in his wrist, his quill flew over and landed neatly in his palm.

“Wonderful!” Professor Hawthorn said and clapped Neville on the back encouragingly. “The path wavered a bit, but with some practise it’ll be perfect. Now, who’s next?”

Neville sat back down, grinning at Hermione. “Pretty good, huh?”

“You were amazing, Neville. Good job!” Hermione whispered back and raised her own hand, wanting to try her skills.

“Miss Granger, please, come up here!”

Hermione stood in the place Neville had occupied previously and directed her focus on her own quill, channelling her magic through her fingertips. _Accio,_ she thought, twisted her hand, and was suddenly blinded by a bright light.

She jumped, covering her ears as her quill exploded, a bang echoing around the room. She stared in horror at the small sooty mark left on her desk.

“Oh, dear...” Professor Hawthorn said and placed a hand on her shoulder but she jerked away from his touch.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, I-”

“It’s quite alright, Miss Granger.” He looked around the classroom, assessing the damage. “Is anyone hurt? No? Alright then, please sit back down, Miss Granger.”

Hermione walked back to her seat in a daze, watching as Neville spelled away the mark on the desk.

“It’s okay, Hermione. I’ve done worse in Potions,” Neville tried to soothe her but Hermione could not shake the feeling of failure.

“Nothing like that has ever happened to _me_ before though...” She didn’t mean to sound so conceited, but it came out that way nevertheless.

“You’ll figure it out later. Don’t worry.” Neville smiled, but she could tell that it was strained.

“I could have hurt someone...” The realisation sent a shiver down her spine. “Oh god, I could have hurt someone. I could have hurt _you._ Neville, I’m so sorry!”

“But you didn’t hurt me,” he said gently. “I’m just fine. A bit shaken but so are you. It’s alright.”

It wasn’t alright. Not at all.

How could she lose control like that? What happened? She had performed several non-verbal and wandless spells during the war without problems, so why now?

Hermione couldn’t seem to pay attention during the rest of the class, and once it ended she gestured for Neville to go on without her.

“I need to speak to the Professor,” she mumbled and he nodded, smiling sympathetically.

“I’ll wait for you outside.”

The door closed behind him, leaving her and Professor alone in the room.

“Sir?” she said and took a seat in front of his desk, facing him.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” he responded, clasping his hands together. “I assume you wish to speak about the incident today?”

She almost winced when he called it an _‘incident’_ but she didn’t know a better word for it herself. “Yes, sir… I’m sorry I truly didn’t know that would happen. If I had I would have never attempted the spell.”

“I realise that, Miss Granger. You don’t need to worry, I don’t blame you, and no harm was done.”

“Still, I regret that it happened at all.”

“I understand,” he sighed, his grey eyes softening. “But I think the incident was caused by a bigger problem that you might realise.”

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face in fear, her mind racing. _Please let everything be alright with the baby. Oh god, what if I did something that hurt her?_

She wiped her sweaty palms on her shirt discreetly. “And what is that, sir?”

“Well, it is highly unusual that a wandless spell fails in an explosion. Typically, if the witch or wizard is inexperienced, simply nothing happens. I fear that your magical core might be unstable, resulting in a violent outburst of power.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. _Of course. My core. It’s splitting, changing. Why didn’t I realise sooner that this would be a problem?_ She cursed herself for her stupidity.

“I see, sir. I’ll see Madam Pomfrey as soon as I can to see if there’s anything that can be done to stabilise it.”

“That is a good idea, Miss Granger. Good luck. I have no doubt that everything will work out just fine.”

Hermione smiled and rushed out of the classroom, feet determined to bring her to the Hospital Wing as soon as possible, only to run straight into Neville. They both stumbled from the impact but he steadied her with his hands on her shoulders.

“Whoa, take it easy,” he exclaimed. “What did he say?”

“Oh, um...” she fidgeted. “He said my magical core might be unstable. I was just on my way the Infirmary to have it checked out.”

“And you’re not… worried?” he asked with a frown and Hermione shrugged.

“Madam Pomfrey knows what she’s doing.”

“Yes, but… Hermione, you’ve been so sick lately and now this? Are you sure you haven’t been cursed of something?” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I know Ginny’s spoken to you and she’s pretty calm about it all but I… I can’t help but be scared for you.”

Hermione felt her heart clench. “Oh, Neville...”

“How… touching,” a snide voice said and Hermione turned to see Professor Snape glaring down at them. “Don’t you two lovebirds have something better to do than to loiter around in the halls?”

“We’re not lovebirds,” Hermione started, her face crimson.

“We were just talking,” Neville said, looking just as flustered.

“Spare me,” Professor Snape said with a sneer and entered the DADA classroom. “Hawthorn, I require ingredients for-”

The door then slammed shut, leaving Hermione and Neville in silence.

“Well… That was weird,” Neville said with a grimace.

“You can say that again,” Hermione responded and looped her arm though his, letting him escort her to the Hospital Wing.


	11. Beat Around the Bush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this new chapter<3

“I hear Miss Granger has dropped Defence. Is that true, Armand?” Pomona Sprout said, the spoon clinking against her cup as she stirred her tea.

 _Finally,_ Severus thought, burying his nose further down his book to avoid attention. He usually avoided the teacher’s lounge with a vengeance, but after encountering Miss Granger and Mr Longbottom in the corridor the other day, his curiosity had refused to settle.

He’d been too far away to hear exactly what they’d been discussing, much to his chagrin, but soon enough he’d caught students whispering of Miss Granger’s explosive accident, followed by the rumours of her dropping the class.

He’d been waiting for what felt like hours for one of his colleagues to bring up the subject. He couldn’t do it himself, not with Minerva breathing down his neck constantly. His years as a spy proved useful as he’d learned never to ask questions if someone else could ask them for him.

“Sadly, it is,” Hawthorne responded with a heavy sigh. “I will miss having her in my class. She’s such a brilliant girl.”

“It isn’t like her to just drop a class like that,” Filius said and frowned.

“Well, it wasn’t without reason! Her magic was acting… well, _strangely._ ”

“How so?”

“She tried a summoning charm and her quill exploded.”

Severus barely choked down his snort. _Hermione Granger failing at something?_ _Call the bloody Prophet._

He ignored the unwanted twinge of worry in his chest.

“Oh my!” Pomona gasped, one hand flying up to cover her mouth.

“Indeed. I believe it might have something to do with her core. She told me she’d speak to Poppy about it.”

“I certainly hope she’s alright!” Filius said. “Problems with a witch or wizard’s magical core is no laughing matter.”

Just then Minerva walked in, raising a questioning eyebrow at the group of Professors.

“Speaking of Miss Granger, I’m assuming?” Hawthorn, Filius, and Pomona all nodded. “She’s doing just fine. No need to worry.”

“You’ve spoken to her about it?” Hawthorn said, sounding surprised.

Minerva scoffed. “Really, Armand? I _am_ the Headmistress. Is it not my job to know the comings and goings of the students, as well as the teachers?”

Severus did not miss the glance she sent his way.

“Oh, um. I suppose.” Hawthorn smiled awkwardly. “Anyway, I’m glad to hear Miss Granger is taking it well.”

“I didn’t say she’s taking it _well.”_ Minerva removed her spectacles with a huff, taking a seat in one of the armchairs closer to Severus. “She’s an ambitious girl and I know for a fact that she hates having to drop a class, especially Defence. But she accepts it. She’ll manage.”

“But what caused it?” Pomona asked. “I’ve always thought her magic to be very stable.”

“As have I!” Filius added.

“I’m not very fond of gossiping...” _Then why are you here talking about it,_ _Minerva_ _?_ “All you need to know is that she’s going through a hard time right now. Please, everyone, be easy on her.”

The conversation fell into a lull and one by one, the Professors left the room. Eventually only Severus and Minerva remained.

Severus closed his book and made to leave, but Minerva stopped him as she cleared her throat.

“You’re not fooling anyone, young man.”

He looked at her questioningly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You never read in here. You say we’re too loud.”

“Perhaps I’ve changed my mind?”

She glared at him. “You were eavesdropping.”

“I wasn’t aware that the discussion was private.”

“Nevertheless, you’re doing the _exact opposite_ of what I asked of you.”

“And what did you ask of me, Minerva?”

“I asked you to stay out of Hermione Granger’s business!”

“I don’t recall.”

 _Damn._ He was losing his edge. Not that the situation required the same stealth and caution that his role as a spy had, but still, it was a shame he couldn’t even get his act together around Minerva.

 _I need to practise,_ he thought vaguely.

“Don’t play stupid! We both know you’re not an idiot!”

He smirked. “A compliment? How unexpected.”

“You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Severus…” She rubbed her temples. “I mean it. You should leave her alone.”

“Is it a curse?” he asked abruptly and Minerva frowned.

“What?”

“Is it a curse that ails her?” He just _had_ to ask. The thought had been plaguing him for too long, his pride be damned.

“No, it’s not.” He was disconcerted to feel a tremor of relief coursing through him at her response.

“Then what is it? Poison? A disease?”

“ _None of your business._ ”

He scowled, and the relief was gone.

~~~

“It’s not working!” Hermione exclaimed in frustration, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

“Breathe, dear. Just relax. Let’s try again, shall we?” Poppy said calmly and held up her own wand in demonstration. “Circle, twist, and say the incantation.”

Hermione followed her instructions diligently. “Videbit vitam interiorem.”

A while cloud took shape above Hermione’s stomach but, just like after her previous attempts, it faded before any details could form.

The tears finally fell from her eyes and she slumped down in the bed, dropping her wand to her side. “I’m a failure...”

“No, you’re not, Hermione.”

“I can’t even cast the spell to see my own baby! How am I supposed to keep up in Charms! Or Transfiguration! Hell, even Potions requires spells sometimes!” She crossed her arms. “As if it wasn’t enough to drop Defence...”

“You won’t need to drop any more classes, dear. Minerva has spoken to the Professors, they’ll go easy on you.”

“I don’t want them to go easy on me. I want to be _normal_ for once.”

“This isn’t a permanent problem.”

“How do you know?”

“If your magic can recover from extensive torture at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange then I have no doubt that it can recover from a situation that it put itself in.” Poppy sighed. “This spell is difficult, even some mediwitches struggle with it at first.”

“Really?” Hermione wiped her eyes with her sleeves.

“Really. It’s not your fault that your magic is unstable. Your body is going through a lot right now. You need to accept it, don’t fight it, dear.”

“It’s easier said than done.”

“I’m sure it is. But try your best.” She smiled. “Now, do you want to see her? Properly this time?”

“Yes,” Hermione said without hesitation and Poppy cast the spell.

Once again, a white cloud formed, but this time it morphed into the shape of a fetus. It was small, not much bigger than Hermione’s open hand, but it was unmistakably a baby, with arms, legs, and even ears. _My daughter._

Hermione smiled and reached out to touch her head, but her fingers just passed through the cloud, distorting the image for a moment before it righted itself.

“She’s beautiful,” Poppy murmured and they both watched as the spell slowly faded into nothingness.

“I can’t wait to hold her.” Hermione breathed out, laughing slightly. “I can still hardly believe it.”

“It’s a lot to take in...”

“It is.”

Hermione blinked, taking a deep breath as she snapped out of the dreamy daze. “Thanks again, Poppy. I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t mention it. Remember to massage in the ointment both mornings and evenings. It’s not very strong I’m afraid and won’t work as well as a potion would.”

Hermione smiled. “Judging by the way my back is aching right now I think it would be very hard to _forget._ And don’t worry about it, I’m thankful for any relief available.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know... no reveal yet. But soon, I promise! ;)
> 
> Also, I realised I've forgotten to mention that although I have put chapter 30 as the end of this fic, it might be slightly longer or shorter. My rough outline is set on 30 chapters, but sometimes when I write I find that some chapters work better when put together or split up. So yeah, the end length is a bit flexible at the moment, just so you know!


	12. Bite the Bullet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I changed Hermione's birthday for this fic bc it just worked better that way lol
> 
> I hope you like this chapter!

The last Saturday in November dawned bright and clear, revealing the snow covered grounds surrounding the castle. It was the perfect weekend for celebration, but Hermione woke up with an anxious knot in her stomach and she could feel it tighten with each hour passing.

Just two days prior Hermione had owled Harry and Ron, asking them to meet her, Ginny, and Neville in the Three Broomsticks for her 21st birthday. They had both readily agreed.

Although it was indeed her birthday, with one year added to her age due to her time turner use in her Third Year, Hermione knew that more than just a birthday dinner awaited.

Ginny had convinced her that it would be the perfect opportunity to reveal her pregnancy and Hermione had reluctantly concurred.

Nervousness and excitement equally caused her shaky demeanour during the day. All too soon it was 6pm and Ginny was knocking on her door.

“Come on, Hermione. Neville is waiting by the gates already!”

Hermione wore loose-fitting black robes, self-conscious of her growing baby bump despite the notice-me-not that was still firmly in place, and she’d wrapped her hair in a low bun.

Ginny smiled and grabbed her elbow once she finally exited her room, beginning the trek down to meet up with Neville.

“Nervous?” Ginny asked and Hermione looked at her helplessly.

“Can you tell?”

“Yes. It’s obvious.”

Hermione poked her in the ribs, but Ginny just laughed.

“It’s not funny!”

Ginny sobered at Hermione’s tone. “You’re right, it’s not. But it’ll be fine! I’ll be there to support you, and I have no doubt that Harry and Neville will take the news well!”

“But Ron?”

“Ron is… well, Ron is what he is, and to be quite honest I’m not sure he’s over you yet.”

“He has a weird way of showing it...” Hermione muttered. “He hooks up with a different girl every weekend.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I know, he’s dumb like that, but my point is that he cares for you. Sure, he’ll probably freak out at first, but he’ll come around!”

“I hope you’re right, Gin.”

“I always am.”

~~~

Hermione gripped her butterbeer tightly, her knuckles turning white. She didn’t even know why she’d ordered an alcoholic beverage in the first place when she couldn’t even drink it. Perhaps it was to keep up appearances for as long as possible.

She smiled tightly at her friends across the table. They were all laughing at something but Hermione couldn’t remember the joke.

“Hey, speaking of that, Neville told me that you’ve been sick, Hermione,” Harry said and looked curiously at her. Hermione sent a quick glare at Neville.

“Sorry,” he said and hunched his shoulders. “I was worried, I thought Harry could help maybe...”

“What’s been going on?” Ron asked.

Hermione sighed, instinctively leaning closer to Ginny for support. She felt her friend cast a strong silencing charm around them and she smiled in thanks.

“It’s alright, Neville. I understand that you had good intentions.” He looked relieved. “Actually, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to meet with you all today.”

“To get sick?” Ron asked and laughed, but quickly stopped as he saw that no one else joined in.

“Hermione?” The frightened look in Harry’s eyes made Hermione’s heart stutter.

“I need to tell you all something.” _Deep breaths. Come on, you can do it._ “Please know that this is really hard to say, and I hope you don’t think less of me, but… I’m pregnant.”

There was a moment of silence, and then all hell broke loose.

“WHAT?” Ron roared, standing up abruptly, his drink knocking over and spilling all over the table. “You didn’t let ME shag you but you let some random bloke do it? And knock you up too?”

“Oh...” Harry said, staring at her with wide eyes, mouth agape. Neville wore a matching expression.

“Are you bloody kidding me?” Ron continued and whipped out his wand, pointing it at Hermione. “Tell me who it was, right now!”

“RON!” Ginny shrieked and disarmed him before Hermione could even blink. “SHUT UP and listen to what she has to say!”

“What could she POSSIBLY say that makes this any better!”

Ginny put him in a full-body-bind, temporarily gluing his lips together to keep him from saying anything else. “Continue, Hermione.”

Hermione took a shuddering breath, ignoring the burn of tears in her eyes, and told the rest of the story. By the end of it Ron had stopped trying to fight his sister’s flawless spell, but it was hard to tell what he was thinking when he couldn’t move.

Harry and Neville looked mostly dumbfounded, but as Hermione finished, Neville’s face broke into a hesitant smile.

“Congratulations, Hermione. You’ll be a great mother.”

The tears that had been threatening to spill over did just that and Hermione released a half-sob, half-laugh. “You know, I think you’re the first person who’s said that.”

“I… wow.” Harry gave her a crooked grin, running his hand through his hair, messing it up. “I mean, I agree with Neville. Congrats. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

“Thank you, really. I… I know it’s silly to be so nervous about telling you but… I think I just made it into this big _thing,_ you know? It became this horrible secret that I could barely tell _anyone._ ”

“It’s not silly, Hermione.” Ginny stroked her back soothingly. “You were scared but it’s done now, and we’re all still here.”

Ron made a grunting noise, his face turning red, and Ginny released the spell holding his lips together. He gasped, breathing heavily as he stared furiously at his sister.

“My nose is blocked, I could barely breathe!”

“Serves you right after shouting at Hermione like that!”

Ron looked over at Hermione, grimacing. “Mione, I’m sorry… I didn’t know it was a magical thing!”

“… Why does it matter?” Hermione asked with slight shake of her head.

“What?”

“Why does it matter that it’s a magical pregnancy instead of a normal one?”

“Well, I mean, it’s different when a guy isn’t involved...”

“Why is it different?” Hermione asked with sudden fury. “We’re not a couple, Ron! We haven’t been for a long time now. Why does it matter to you what I do with _my_ body?”

“Because, well, you see… It’s...” he faltered and the angry scowl returned to his face. “ _I_ haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Ron, just stop it,” Harry interjected. “You have to calm down, mate.”

“No! She can’t just get pissed at me for nothing!”

Ginny sighed. “It’s not _nothing,_ you dolt! You pointed your _wand_ at her for merlin’s sake! And then you say a half-arsed _‘sorry’_ and expect it all to be fine?”

“Stay out of it, Gin!”

“I’ll stay out of it when you stop treating Hermione like she’s rubbish!”

“Get me out of this damn body-bind!” he yelled but Ginny just reinforced it, adding back the lip-glueing charm as well, turning his words into a muffled groan.

“I’m so sorry this evening turned out like this, Hermione...” she said and swiped her thumb across Hermione’s cheek, gently wiping away a stray tear. She then turned to Harry. “Could you help me take my idiot brother to the Burrow? I think my mum needs to have a chat with him.”

“Sure, Gin.” Harry nodded. “And sorry about this mess, Hermione… Congrats again. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

Hermione smiled weakly. “Yeah.”

“Hey, come on.” Neville took her coat, placing it over her shoulders. “I’ll take you back to the castle.”

“See you later!” Ginny called after them as she and Neville exited the Three Broomsticks, a warming charm tightly wrapped around their forms.

For a few moments, the only sound was the crunching of snow under their boots.

“So… how’s Luna?” Hermione finally asked, an awkward attempt at lightening the gloomy mood that had settled after Ron’s earlier outburst.

“She’s good. Last time I heard from her she was in northern Sweden. I think she might be in Norway now, though.”

“That’s nice.”

“We broke up.”

Hermione stopped abruptly and stared at him. “You... what? But you were so happy together!”

“We _were…”_ He scratched the back of his head. “I think we were only happy as friends, though. Luna is wonderful but doing stuff like _kissing_ just felt wrong.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Neville.”

“Don’t be! We’re both doing better now that we realised there was never anything romantic between us, so we can stop forcing it.”

“Oh...” Hermione wasn’t quite sure what to say, but she couldn't help but be reminded of her own break up with Ron.

“I… I know that this evening has already been quite intense for you, Hermione, and I don’t want to make it any worse. But at the same time, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“And what’s that?”

He bit his lip, his cheeks turning red from more than just the cold. “You know that Ravenclaw boy in Herbology? Max?”

She nodded.

“I kind of… like him?”

Hermione blinked in surprise. “You… you like him?”

“Yes.” His face crumpled, and the words seemed to just tumble from his mouth. “Please don’t hate me! I just figured, you told me your secret so it’s only fair that I tell you mine! I know my grandmother would _kill me_ if she found out I like boys, but I had to tell someone, and you’ve always been so nice to me Hermione! I was hoping you’d understand that-”

“Neville!” she stopped his rant with a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t hate you, I could never do that. It was just unexpected, that’s all. I’m glad you told me. Thank you.”

Tears were shining in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yes. You can’t control who you love, Neville.” Hermione choked out a laugh as she felt her own tears well up. “Why is it that I can’t stop myself from crying today?”

He sniffed, a shy grin lit up his face. “Maybe it’s the hormones?”

“Oh shut up.” She embraced him tightly, smiling into his chest he carefully returned the hug. “Let’s hurry inside. The warming charm is fading.”

He kept one arm around her shoulders as they resumed walking. “I love you, Hermione.”

“I love you too, Neville.”

Although the evening hadn’t gone exactly as expected, Hermione wasn’t displeased with how it ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She finally told them! hahah, I told you guys it was on its way! Were their reactions what you were expecting?


	13. Dig Your Heels In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'll soon run out of pre-written chapters as my work has been really busy lately and I haven't had time to write ahead much, so I might need to go on a hiatus for a week or two later, but I'll update you guys!
> 
> Now, enjoy this new chapter!

_**Breaking!  
War Heroes Caught in Romantic Tryst!** _

_War heroes Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom were seen together late Saturday evening leaving ‘the Three Broomsticks’ in Hogsmeade. Eye witnesses report that the pair, along with their mutual friends Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Ginerva Weasley, had been celebrating Hermione Granger’s birthday._

_Things seemed to take a turn however when Mr Weasley, Granger’s ex-boyfriend, had a violent outburst in the middle of the dinner. Silencing charms prevented the witnesses from hearing what was being said, but by observing the body-language it’s was not hard to guess what happened._

_Mr Weasley’s younger sister Ginerva, girlfriend of Harry Potter, was seen placing her brother in a body-bind to prevent his jealousy from causing even more of a scene. Neville Longbottom later placed Granger’s coat lovingly over her shoulders and the pair left the restaurant._

_On their walk back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry they were seen embracing (see pictures below) while later appearing to speak the words “I love you” to each other._

_Though neither persons have confirmed the relationship, eye witnesses are adamant that what they saw was clearly a budding romance. But many questions still remain: will Ronald Weasley’s jealousy get in between and separate the couple? Or is this relationship merely a way for Granger to get revenge on her ex? How is this affecting Harry Potter and Ginerva Weasley’s romance?_

_The Daily Prophet will stay on the story and are determined to find answers to these questions and more! Stay tuned for the next update!_

_More about Harry Potter and Ginerva Weasley’s relationship on page 7.  
More about Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley’s breakup on page 8._

~~~

Hermione threw the magazine down on the table in disgust. “I can’t believe they would write that!”

“Well, you have to admit, the photo _does_ make it seem like you’re lovers,” Ginny said unhelpfully.

“That doesn’t matter! It’s a huge violation of privacy! Not to mention that it’s not even true!”

Neville was sitting across from them, his face red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I’ve made a complete mess of it all.”

Hermione’s expression softened. “It’s not your fault, Neville. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I wonder how Ron is going to react to this...” Ginny mumbled and Hermione groaned in response, dropping her head in her hands.

“Oh god… He’s going to freak out...”

“He won’t say anything about… _you know_.” Ginny gave her a meaningful look. “Mum made him swear a wand oath not to reveal anything without your permission.”

“Well, that’s something at least.”

“I’m sure this whole thing will pass soon. You know how fast people tire of gossip!”

Hermione grimaced, not convinced, but she let the subject drop. It hardly did her any good to dwell on it.

Still, as the day moved on, she couldn’t ignore the curious stares from the other students. Some even _giggled_ at the sight of her and Neville walking through the corridors and by the time Potions class was starting, Hermione was just about ready to hex them all into next week.

Fuming, she sat down at her desk, not even able to muster enough energy to acknowledge Neville’s supportive smile as he sat down in his own place.

Not a minuteafter she’d settled, Professor Snape strode in, his gaze as menacing as always.

“Put away your textbooks, you silly chits!” he snapped and the few students that had their books out sheepishly cleared their desks. “Today we will be brewing Potion No. 86.”

Hermione’s heart stuttered and her mouth fell agape in surprise as much as outrage.

“But, sir! That’s a poison!” she exclaimed.

“ _Wrong,_ Miss Granger.” His eyes lit up strangely at that statement as he looked directly at her. “Although it has the potential to be poisonous during the brewing process it is, in fact, _not_ a poison in and of itself. It is primarily used as a strengthening solution to help grow toxic plants.”

“But it’s not on the curriculum!”

“As your Professor I have the authority to _change_ the curriculum.”

“NO!” she shouted and stood up, her chair wobbling a moment before falling over with a bang behind her.

“Sit _down,_ Miss Granger!”

_Oh, merlin…_ she thought, her hands shaking.

Hermione had studied the curriculum obsessively before term started to make sure there was no potion on there that could pose a threat to her pregnancy. But this potion— _poison_ _—_ was too dangerous. She couldn’t brew it.

Her hands turned to fists at her sides. “I won’t do it!”

“Twenty points from Gryffindor, Granger! Now, _sit down!”_

“No way! I refuse!” She could do nothing else. She would never be able to convince him to let the whole class skip brewing that potion. He would never agree to that. She would have to face this by herself.

“Detention!”

Neville was suddenly at her side. “Don’t yell at her!”

“Oh, so your _boyfriend_ is coming to rescue you now, Granger? How gallant of him.” He sneered and turned to Neville. “I’ll do whatever I bloody well want to, Longbottom. Detention for you as well!”

“Don’t drag him into this!” Hermione defended but the force of Professor Snape’s glare stopped her from speaking another word.

“ENOUGH!” he roared and a heavy silence followed, every student fearfully awaiting their snarling Professor’s next words. “Granger, report to me at 8pm tonight. You’ll be scrubbing cauldrons until your fingers are bleeding.”

Somehow, he was even more terrifying when his voice was so controlled, so calm. _A snake waiting to strike._

“Yes, sir,” she managed to choke out, gripping Neville’s arm hard to steady herself.

“Same time for you, Longbottom, with Filch.” His eyes narrowed. “Now... _get out of my sight._ ”

They fled.

~~~

“I’m not saying he didn’t deserve to get yelled at, because he definitely did, but… why did we yell at him?” Neville asked shakily as Hermione closed the door to her room behind them.

“Because that potion isn’t on the curriculum! We shouldn’t have to brew it!”

“Is that the _only_ reason?”

“Well… You heard what he said. It’s poisonous while brewing, and while _we_ would be fine, I don’t know what would happen to the baby. She… she could die for all I know!”

“Oh...” Neville raked his fingers through his hair. “Damn.”

“Exactly.”

“So… what are we going to do?”

“We’ll go to detention, I guess.” She fell down on her bed with a deep sigh, her hair fanning out on the sheets around her.

“Shouldn’t you go to the Headmistress or something?”

“And let her scold him _again?_ I don’t think he deserves that… I mean, we _did_ disrespect him in his own classroom. He has every right to punish us!”

Neville shrugged and sat down by her feet, grimacing. “This sucks.”

“You can say that again.” Hermione laughed humourlessly. “And even _he_ had read the article! He called you my _boyfriend!”_

“I’ll never have a chance with Max now that he thinks I’m in a relationship...” Neville mumbled distantly and Hermione sat up with a start.

“I didn’t even think about that! Oh, Neville, I’m so sorry!”

“Hey,” he held his hands up. “I dragged myself into this. Besides, your baby comes before my silly crush. It’s more important.”

“It shouldn’t be, though… You shouldn’t put your life on hold for _me._ ”

“Hermione, I _want_ to help you. I want to be here for you.”

She bit her lip. “I promise it won’t be for much longer. I’m about 19 weeks along already, soon Minerva’s notice-me-not won’t help hide the pregnancy anymore. I have to come clean and make sure that the Prophet has the right information…”

“Please don’t rush just for my sake. You need to take your time.”

“I...” she sighed. “I’ve taken enough time already. It has to happen within the next few weeks.”

“Are you sure?”

Her palms felt sticky with sweat, but she ignored it, putting on a brave smile in true Gryffindor-fashion.

“I’m sure.”


	14. A Little Learning is a Dangerous Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter!!

Severus was seated behind his desk, scowling at the closed classroom door, a quill tightly clutched in his hand. His leg was bouncing rapidly and he couldn’t seem to stop it, much to his annoyance.

He had never had a problem with nervous ticks before, but naturally nothing worked as it should when Hermione Granger was involved.

The girl’s behaviour in class that day had Severus’ mind spinning. He had never, _never,_ heard Granger talk back to a teacher like that. The very thought was laughable. She was the definition of a teacher’s pet, always respectful, always obedient.

The only exception was when Umbridge had taken over DADA, but the pink toad hardly counted as an _actual_ teacher.

Although Severus knew that Granger clung to her morals like a Devil’s Snare, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong. What on earth could cause her to react like _that?_ She had yelled at him, _refused_ to brew the assigned potion, accepted her detention and left.

It just wasn’t like her. Not at all.

If anything, she should have changed her mind once he’d explained that it wasn’t a poison they were brewing. _What are you hiding?_

Severus felt himself bristle, his anger somehow rekindled as he thought back on what happened.

At first, he’d merely been furious at her for her disobedience. Seconds later, as he realised his control over the situation was slipping, he somehow got angrier at himself.

But the last fucking straw was when _Longbottom_ of all people stepped in, standing at her side like the perfect knight in shining armour, acting like he _deserved_ to be with the girl. Severus wanted to wring the boy’s damn neck.

Granger wasa clever girl. She should be with someone actually able to intellectually stimulate her, not an idiot like Longbottom. But perhaps Granger wasn’t as brilliant as he thought if she seriously considered Longbottom as a life partner.

Not that Severus cared about teenagers’ silly relationships. Of course, he didn’t care at all.

_Get a grip, man. Why are you thinking about it anyway?_

The clock struck 8 and not a second later there was a soft knock on the door.

He cleared his throat. “Enter.”

Granger’s eyes were downcast as she walked in, but apart from that nothing else seemed out of place. “Good evening, sir.”

Severus didn’t respond to her greeting. “Start working.”

She swallowed audibly and nodded, walking over to the sink where dozens of dirty cauldrons were stacked up, waiting to get cleaned.

Severus watched as she started scrubbing, avoiding magic without even asking if she could use it or not. He would have said no anyhow, so he supposed it didn’t matter that she didn’t ask.

He tore his eyes from her form, glaring down at the assignment he’d been attempting to start grading for the past hour. He’d been too busy brooding to actually do any work, and Granger’s current presence did nothing to help him focus. If anything, it made him even more distracted.

He glanced up now and then, not sure if he was pleased with how hard she seemed to strain herself or just concerned. She had only cleaned about 3 cauldrons, she shouldn’t look so exhausted already.

A moment later she huffed, shrugging off her outer robes and hanging them over a chair. The back of her white button down blouse was turning see-through from sweat.

_Sweet Circe, girl, cast a damn cooling charm if it’s too warm._ He sneered and returned his gaze to the assignment, scrawling an A at the top corner despite not really having read it.

Granger kept working without a word and it wasn’t until an hour later that he finally looked up at her again, disconcerted by the abrupt silence that had suddenly settled.

She was leaning against the sink, her hands clutching the counter-top in a white knuckled grip. Her face was flushed and she took deep breaths, one after the other.

Severus frowned. “Miss Granger?”

“I’m sorry, sir!” she gasped and hurriedly resumed her work, a few dirty ladles banging against the cauldron in the soapy water. Her hands were shaking. “I was just catching a break.”

He didn’t comment, just continued watching her as she struggled for a moment with a particularly stubborn stain. Once the cauldron was clean she grabbed the handles and lifted, but it was clear that it was too heavy for her.

“You may use magic to move them,” he said abruptly and she froze, like a deer caught in headlights.

The thought of outright asking her about her ailment crossed his mind, if only to somehow break the odd tension in the room, but all too soon the moment was over.

“Thank you, sir,” she said with a small smile and took her wand out, her grip perfected. “Wingardium Levio-”

The words seemed to die in her throat as she groaned, dropping her wand to the floor as she stumbled backwards.

Severus was already half-way out of his seat, his heart racing, when she quickly spoke.

“I’m okay!” She held up one hand, stopping him from rounding his desk and racing to her side. “I... just need to rest for a second.”

He steeled himself, making a poor attempt to stay calm as he watched her lean against one of the desks. “Miss Granger, if something is wrong you must tell me.”

“I… I don’t know what happe-” she doubled over in clear agony and he took a few steps forward, narrowing his eyes as he noticed a slight shimmer around her middle. _What the hell?_

His attention then snapped to the small dark red puddle forming between her feet.

“Miss Granger...” he said, and at this point he was almost certain his heart had stopped completely.

Following his gaze, she whimpered at the sight and reached a shaky hand down between the legs. When she brought it back up, her fingers were covered in blood.

~~~

Hermione’s knees buckled and she fell to the floor, but she hardly even felt the impact. The sharp pain that shot through her abdomen was too encompassing.

Calloused fingers grabbed her jaw, forcing her mouth open, and she struggled to focus her gaze on her professor. He was holding a vial over her, unstopping it with his teeth before he brought it to her lips.

_Blood-Replenisher…_ her addled mind offered as panic made her eyes widen.

“No!” she gasped and pushed against him, but she was too weak to get out of his grip. A new wave of pain ripped through her, making her scream, but she did not stop struggling.

“You need to drink this, Granger!” he hissed and once again brought the vial closer.

She couldn’t drink it. She remembered the list Poppy had given her, the list of potions that were strictly off-limits.

_But he doesn’t know that. Oh god._

“WINKY!” she managed to shout before the first drop of potion could touch her tongue and there was a deafening ‘ _CRACK’_ sounding in the room.

Professor Snape’s grip on her was suddenly gone, paired with a loud thud against the far off wall, but Hermione could only focus on the pain.

She curled up on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around her middle, as if to hold herself together. Warmth gushed out from between her legs.

_What is happening..._

A second _‘CRACK’_ echoed out, and no more than a few second later, there was a third, paired with Poppy’s yelp of surprise.

“What on earth are you-” Poppy stopped abruptly. “Hermione?”

Hermione could do nothing but whimper in response and before she knew it, Poppy was at her side, gently but firmly pulling Hermione’s arms away from her stomach.

“Let go, dear. I need to see what’s wrong.”

“It hurts...” Hermione sobbed and struggled to take a proper breath.

“I know. Tell me what kind of pain it is, how does it feel?” Poppy was prodding her all over with her hands, mumbling spells quickly as Hermione mustered a response.

“Inside… It’s tearing, burning...”

“In your uterus or in your sternum?” Although Poppy sounded calm, Hermione heard the edge of fear in her voice, making her feel even more panicked.

“Please, help. Make it stop.”

“You need to answer my question, Hermione. I’m doing everything I can.”

She cried out again as another wave of agony struck her. Tears were streaming from her eyes and she was quite sure that she was starting to hyperventilate. “...Sternum, it pulls down to the uterus.”

“Just breathe. Focus on breathing.”

Hermione grit her teeth, clenching her jaw so hard her head ached. Breathing was difficult at first, but with each spell Poppy cast, the more numbness washed over her. The pain slowly lessened and eventually her eyelids grew heavy.

“Stay awake, dear. I’m almost done.”

Poppy’s voice felt so distant, but Hermione blinked and tried to do as instructed. It was easier said than done. Everything felt so fuzzy. Perhaps if she just closed her eyes for a little while. Just to rest for a moment…

Someone shook her shoulder and she groaned. “Wake up, Hermione. Come on. That’s it, dear.”

“Is… Is she okay?” Hermione managed to mumble, fighting the exhaustion that threatened to take over.

“She’s okay. You’re both okay.”

Relief brought fresh tears to her eyes.

“What happened?”

“I’m not sure. I believe your core might have tried to split too fast. It wasn’t ready.”

“Oh...” She blinked again and slowly brought a hand up to rub her eyes. “I’m dizzy.”

“You’ve lost quite a bit of blood, but you’ll be fine after a bit of rest.” Poppy stroked her head softly and Hermione’s tears once again rolled down her cheeks.

She held back a sob by burying her face in Poppy’s lap. “I was so scared, I thought… I thought she’d die..And then… Professor Snape he-” she gasped, jerking her head upright to look around. “Professor Snape!”

It didn’t take long to find him.

He was rising slowly from the stone floor a few meters away, brushing off his black robes as he sent a vicious glare at Winky, the elf’s hand still half-raised after releasing him from a body-bind. But then he looked at Hermione, and the fury in his dark eyes made her heart stutter in fear.

She took a shaky breath and swallowed hard, feeling the dizziness return full-force.

“I believe...” he said in a voice so low it might as well have been a growl, “you have some explaining to do, Miss Granger...”

She whimpered as the muscles straining in her neck gave in, and her head fell back onto Poppy’s lap just as darkness swallowed her whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, uh, that was dramatic lol
> 
> I loved reading all your speculations abt what would happen in this chapter, even though none of u got it quite right. What did you think?


	15. The Elephant in the Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is on the shorter side, but I'm hoping to give u guys a bonus chapter sometime this weekend as comfort lol. After that though I'll probs have to go on a quick hiatus (2 weeks maybe?) just to catch up on writing, but for now enjoy this update!!

“Tell me, Poppy, or I swear I’ll-”

_Professor Snape? Why is he here?_ Hermione thought as she struggled against the fog in her mind, trying to make sense of the distorted voices floating around her.

“You’ll what? Hex me? That will hardly do you any good.”

“I’ve been left in the dark for too long!”

“This has nothing to do with you, Severus.”

“I could _help.”_

Consciousness was almost within her grasp, her fingers twitching as she tried to move her arm.

“Perhaps, but it is not my decision.”

“ _Perhaps?_ I’m a Potions Master! Of course I could help!”

“Severus, calm down.”

“I’ve wasted too much time staying _calm,_ Poppy. I’m bloody well tired of it!”

Hermione groaned and managed to press her palms against her eyes to shield herself from the suddenly blinding lights.

“Oh, you’re awake!” Poppy said and Hermione felt her sit down beside her on the bed. _Bed? Where am I?_

She ignored her pounding head and gazed slowly around the room, noticing that it was, in fact, not a bed she was lying on. It was a dark grey couch. A matching armchair stood in one of the corners, surrounded by walls lines with books.

“She’s been eavesdropping, no doubt.” The deep timbre of Professor Snape’s voice almost made her jump. He was standing only a few feet behind Poppy when Hermione met his eyes, standing like a looming shadow over them both.

“Severus!” Poppy scolded, casting a glare at him over her shoulder before she turned her attention back to Hermione. “Are you feeling better, dear?”

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. “Am I not allowed to say what I want in my own chambers?”

_His chambers?_

The memories of what had happened then returned to her, not as a sudden pang of flashes, but as a slow settling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

She tore her gaze away from her Professor, instead looking into Poppy’s kind eyes.

“Is… Is everything alright with...” she hesitated.

“Yes. Everything is alright. There have been no changes since you lost consciousness.”

“Does _he_ know?” she asked, daring to glance at Professor Snape for a moment, but quickly looked away again.

“I haven’t told him a thing, but I think he might be able to guess after what he witnessed.”

“Indeed,” he interjected and Hermione swallowed. Her throat felt dry.

“May I have some water, please?” she asked and Poppy quickly conjured a full glass for her. She sipped it carefully, as if to buy herself time, before pushing herself up to sit.

The carpet beneath her feet was softer than it looked.

“Do… do I have to tell him?” she asked.

“I am in the room, Miss Granger. I can hear you.” _Oh, he’s not happy._

Poppy glared at him once more and then smiled gently at Hermione. “It is your decision, but I think that by now it would be best for the both of you if you told the truth. Keeping it secret has hardly done you any favours so far.”

“I suppose you’re right...” She took a deep breath, willing her racing heart to slow down, and looked at him for a third time. This time she did not look away, no matter how much she wanted to. “I would like to start with an apology, sir.”

He merely sneered in response but she ploughed on. “I know I should have consulted you earlier about my… medical condition. You _are_ a Potions Master, after all.”

“Astute observation,” he mumbled humourlessly. “Would you mind getting to the point _today_ perhaps?”

“Oh, um… Of course, sir.” She felt Poppy grab her hand and she squeezed it firmly. “What I’m trying to say is, although it’s more complicated than it might seem... I’m pregnant.”

He stared at her, his expression unchanged for a long moment before it twisted into a familiar sneer. “Oh, of all the _stupid_ things….”

“Severus,” Poppy said but he paid her no mind.

“To think I considered you _clever,_ Miss Granger.” He scoffed and turned his back to her, beginning to pace back and forth across the room, one fist held clenched in his palm behind his back. “You’re no better than the other reckless dunderheads that plague my existence.”

“Sir...”

“What on earth convinced you that it was a good idea to get with child in the middle of the school year? And so close after the war? Did you not think to use a contraceptive potion? Did the _boy_ not think to use it?”

He stopped abruptly to look at her and Hermione was sure that if looks could kill, she’d be dead ten times over.

“Was it _Longbottom_?” he spat out the name like it was the worst word he knew.

“What?” Hermione exclaimed. “No!”

“Weasley then?”

“No!”

“ _Potter?”_

“Sir! There is no boy involved at all!”

“Do you take me for a bloody fool?”

“She’s telling the truth, Severus. Just listen to her,” Poppy said and he sneered again.

“Even now you keep me in the dark? Of course, a spy will always be untrustworthy.”

“Sir, please! Just listen!”

“Listen to _what,_ Miss Granger?” he snarled and stepped closer with each word. “Some bullshit excuse about how the father left and how you’ll raise this child on your own? No matter what there is _always_ a boy involved, and I’ll make sure he faces the consequences of what he’s done whether he likes it or not!”

“It’s my core!" she cried. "My magical core is splitting up, creating life to sustain it! I swear that’s the truth, Professor!”

He stopped, the rage in his eyes slowly melding with a look of both confusion and sudden comprehension. “Your core… and that’s what caused the explosion in your Defence class?”

“Yes,” she sighed, her body still tense with the hope that he’d believe her.

“And the same thing occurred in detention?”

“I think so… just more intense.”

“The other symptoms?”

Poppy placed a hand on his shoulder. “Those were just normal symptoms of pregnancy, although she’s had them worse than most. Mainly it’s her core that’s been causing problems as of late… We’re hoping it’ll get better once the baby is born.”

He blinked, gaze turned downward, and the air seemed to go out of him with a single breath. “May… May I see the medical files, Miss Granger?”

Hermione had never seen her Professor looking as utterly lost as he did in that moment. “Yes. Of course, Sir.”

“Winky,” Poppy called softly and the elf appeared. “Will you get Hermione’s medical files for us, please?”

She vanished, and a moment later she returned with a bundle of papers. Professor Snape took them without a word and immediately walked over to the armchair in the corner, turning a reading light on with the snap of his fingers before he began to read.

“Special tea for Miss,” Winky said and Hermione sucked in a breath, turning away from her Professor to see that Winky was holding out a steaming cup for her to take.

“Oh, thank you,” she murmured and cradled it in her hands.

“Drink it,” Poppy encouraged. “And try to get some more rest. It’s been a long day for you.”

“But what about Professor Snape? Shouldn’t we wait to see what he has to say about the files?”

Hermione glanced over in his direction, but he appeared not to have noticed her speak his name.

“We can discuss all that at another time. Just relax for now, dear.”

Hermione smiled, trying to appear as calm as she could, but on the inside her mind was still a whirlwind. She couldn’t help but think now that Severus Snape knew of her secret, everything would change.

Only time would tell if it changed for better or for worse.

  
  



	16. Actions Speak Louder Than Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter as promised!!
> 
> Ok so I'm sorry to leave you all hanging on such an exciting part of the story lol but i really need to catch up on writing to prevent delays later on. So I'll be going on a short hiatus until the 21st of May.  
> I hope you can manage to wait until then!! hahah
> 
> Stay safe and healthy loves, and enjoy this chapter!

Severus sighed and rubbed his temples, trying to distract himself from the temptation of his liquor cabinet. Merlin, he needed a drink… But it simply wouldn’t do to indulge with a student sleeping on his couch only a few feet away.

She had fallen asleep hours ago, before he had even finished reading her medical files through. Poppy left around 11, saying something about speaking with Minerva. He hadn’t really listened.

Shortly after that he’d read through the files again, and later a third time. He’d memorized every word of it, determined to not miss a single detail. He had to make sure that the magic wasn’t dark, that it wasn’t some twisted curse that Miss Granger’s bloodline had been infected with.

He had to make sure it wasn’t a horcrux.

_But dark magic does not create life. It destroys it,_ he’d reminded himself again and again as he read about her various symptoms, and yet a tinge of fear stubbornly remained. His mind was a whirlwind, and yet it was standing still. Coherent thoughts seemed to slip right through his fingers when he tried to catch them.

He knew that it was late, surely the clock had already struck 2 am, but he couldn’t bring himself to go to bed, to _rest_. He wasn’t even sure if he was allowed, as Poppy hadn’t returned yet.

Had she told him to keep an eye on Miss Granger while she was gone? Maybe, he couldn’t quite recall, but it was best to play it safe, he reasoned.

He looked over at her sleeping form, numbly observing how she lay sprawled out beneath a blanket, her hair fanned out on the pillow like a wild halo.

The shimmering around her middle was gone, and instead there was a small bump visible. Had she been wearing a notice-me-not? _Minerva’s work,_ _probably_ _._

How hadn’t he seen it before? All the signs were there. In hindsight it was quite obvious that the girl was pregnant.

_But she’s not really a girl anymore, is she? She’s a woman, and a brave one at that._

Oh, what a mess he had gotten himself into… and what a mess he had _made._ He’d tried to force blood-replenisher into her for merlin’s sake! At the time it made perfect sense of course, she was bleeding and he did not know what was causing it. Anyone could have made that mistake.

_You’re not just anyone, Severus. You’re not supposed to make mistakes._

He shuddered at what could have happened had he succeeded in making her drink it.

_You’re supposed to know better._

Fuck, that voice in his head was getting annoying, and his guilt about the matter certainly didn’t help silence it.

He didn’t even want to begin thinking about how he’d lost his temper once he’d found out about the pregnancy. What right did he even have to judge a boy for getting a girl pregnant? None. And he definitely did not have the right to judge Miss Granger for it.

He just hated the thought of yet another deadbeat father in the world. A father like his.

_Yes, and you did such a good fucking job at setting an example, didn’t you, Severus? Losing your temper, just like your own father would have done._

There wasn’t even a boy involved. It didn’t matter anyway.

_Damn..._

Why wasn’t Poppy back yet? He should go get her, demand that she come move her patient away from his quarters.

He couldn’t just leave Miss Granger though, and he was far too exhausted to even stand, let alone go and look for the mediwitch.

_Send a message then._

“Winky,” he spoke softly, but his voice was uncomfortably loud in the quiet room despite his efforts.

The elf arrived with a small pop and Severus raised his eyebrow in surprise. He didn’t know elfs could apparate without making it sound like a bomb going off, or at least he’d never witnessed it himself. However, this elf was clearly different.

She was standing a few feet away from him, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him through the dim light not unlike Minerva had done before.

“What?” she asked and Severus was once again taken aback, this time by the tone of her voice.

“In a bad mood?” he couldn’t resist asking, and her glare intensified.

“You was trying to hurt Miss. I saws you.”

_Ah… the detention… Trust me, I have not forgotten._

“I assure you, that was not my intention,” he said and paused for a moment, but she did not respond. “I was trying to stop the bleeding. I didn’t know she was with child, if I _had_ I would have never done what I did.”

He hated how self-loathing seeped into his words even as he tried to hold it in.

“You was not helping her.”

“I know.”

The elf narrowed her eyes at him and he fought the urge to squirm under her gaze. It was odd to be judged like this, to be so utterly vulnerable and desperate for forgiveness, even if it was not forgiveness from the person you should apologise to.

No, Miss Granger alone held that right, but he knew he should not hope to receive it.

“Will you hurt Miss again?” Winky asked.

“No, I will never knowingly harm her or her child.”

“Do you promise?”

“I swear it,” he answered without thinking, but he knew in that moment that he meant every word.

His response seemed to satisfy her and she gave him a slow nod of approval.

“What can Winky do for Sir?” she said and he blinked, suddenly remembering why he had called her in the first place.

“I...” He waved his hand sluggishly to dismiss his previous thought. “Please just inform Poppy that Miss Granger can stay here for the night. She can come fetch her in the morning.”

“Winky fixes.” Then the elf was gone.

He rubbed his temples again, his shoulders slumping as the tension in his back loosened. _Now I definitely need a drink…_

He was just about to summon his bottle of Ogden's when a shiver travelled along his spine. His gaze snapped up, instinctively seeking out the source of his discomfort, meeting the open eyes of Miss Granger.

She was staring right at him, and for a moment he was afraid she’d heard his conversation with her elf, but the longer he looked at her the more obvious it was that she was still half-asleep. She couldn’t have heard much more than the end of it.

Her eyelids drooped but she blinked quickly and opened them again.

“You said please...” she mumbled and rubbed the marks on her cheek that the pillow had made.

“What?” he asked in confusion.

“When you talked to Winky… You said _please.”_

“I did.” He kept his voice neutral, still unsure where this was going.

She then smiled at him and he felt shivers again, but they were not nearly as dreadful as the other shiver had been. “I knew you could be nice...”

He stayed silent, not knowing what to say to that.

“You should be nice more often.”

_She’s not making any sense. Make her stop._

“Go back to sleep, Miss Granger.”

She smiled again before turning her head to bury her face in the pillow, a soft snore escaping her mouth. Severus sighed in relief, but he felt his heart hammering faster than usual in his chest as he hurried to summon his bottle of whisky.

Clearly there would be no sleep for him tonight.


	17. Cross the Bridge When You Get to It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back!!
> 
> Thank you all so much for your nice comments, they mean the world to me. I really needed a lil break lol  
> I've managed to write/outline a few chapters ahead, not as much as I had hoped but enough for a while at least!
> 
> This chapter feels a bit filler-ish (to me at least), sorry about that, but it's a necessary chapter anyway hahah   
> Enjoy!

Hermione heaved a sigh as she took the last few steps up to the owlery. Her feet were aching after walking across the snow covered grounds and up the winding staircase, but the cool fresh air was soothing in her lungs.

Poppy had assured her that it would be perfectly safe for her to take a short walk, and Hermione was in no hurry anyway so there really was no risk of her overexerting herself. Besides, Hermione was not planning on taking any worrying signs lightly anymore.

When the first twinges of pain had appeared in detention, she’d tried to push through it. She’d tried to ignore it, tell herself it was nothing.

_Stupid…_

She didn’t want to think about how badly it could have ended. Instead she focused only on the fact that it didn’t, and that both her and her baby were safe.

_Better make it stay that way._

She had not seen Professor Snape since she’d fallen asleep the night before. Poppy had woke her up at noon and they’d both relocated to the hospital wing where Winky had prepared some much needed food for them both.

She didn’t ask where Professor Snape were, and Poppy didn’t mention it, but Hermione guessed that he simply wanted to escape their company. He’d never been a social man as far as she could tell. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t even _like_ her, and she doubted that would ever change.

And yet she somehow hoped that he’d see her in a different light now that he knew her secret. Perhaps she could finally be more than just a know-it-all to him, and instead be seen as a person, an intellectual in her own right.

_Or perhaps he’ll simply see you as a science project. Your pregnancy isn’t exactly normal, is it?_

Truthfully, even that would be better than continuing to be just a mere student. He was an academic, just like her. The thought of getting to know him, even on just a professional level, was intriguing to her.

He was still her Professor though, despite the strange situation they had found themselves in. But could he be more? Could he be a confidante like Minerva and Poppy had become? Could he become her… friend?

She laughed softly to herself at that thought. _Friend? Professor Snape? Yeah, like that would ever happen._

The owl hooted softly as she stroked its head in greeting and she smiled.

“Could you take this to Luna Lovegood, please?” she asked and the owl hooted once more, taking the letter in its beak before flying off.

Hermione watched it soar toward the horizon until it became nothing more than a dot in the distance. It was in for a long flight and she felt almost bad for making it travel so long. But it hardly mattered anymore. The owl was already gone.

_No turning back now, is it?_

Of course, Luna hadn’t even received the letter yet, much less confirmed that her father would print the story in the Quibbler, but Hermione knew it was best to stick to the plan.

The news of her pregnancy would eventually come out, that was inevitable, and she was just glad that the Prophet wouldn’t be the first magazine to write about it. This was on her own terms. Just as it should be.

~~~

_Tomorrow….Oh god, TOMORROW?_

She hadn’t expected a reply so fast and she certainly hadn’t expected an article to be ready for release so soon, less than a week after sending the message to Luna.

“Ginny!” she cried, frantically knocking on the closed door.

“What’s the matter?” Neville’s voice came from behind her and she turned, practically throwing herself in his arms in her panic.

“It’s happening, Neville! It’s _tomorrow!_ ”

“Is… is that a good thing?” he asked in confusion and she took a step back, pulling her hand through her hair.

“No! Of course it’s not! It’s way too soon!” She caught the eye of a group of third years looking at them from the sitting area of the common room and she glared at them. “What are you looking at?”

“Hey, calm down, Hermione,” Neville said and placed a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off in frustration.

“Everything alright?” Ginny said as she finally exited her dorm, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

“Did I wake you up?” Hermione asked wringing her hands together.

Ginny shrugged. “Yes, but whatever. I shouldn’t sleep in so much in the weekends anyway, it messes up my sleep schedule.”

Hermione nodded and tried to smile, but instead she felt tears pooling in her eyes. It was all happening too fast, and her hormones certainly didn't help.

“Oh, Hermione!” Ginny said and gave her a tight hug. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Gin, I just… I don’t know...”

“Tomorrow is the day,” Neville explained and Hermione could feel Ginny nodding.

“Let’s head over to your room, yeah?”

Hermione’s tear streaked face burned with embarrassment as they walked through the corridors, her two friends flanking her all the way until the door closed behind them.

“Hermione...” Ginny began and sat down on the foot of the bed. “Listen, I get it, you’re scared of what people will think but-”

“You _don’t_ get it, Ginny!” Hermione said and pointed an accusing finger at her.

“She’s only trying to help,” Neville murmured and the tears were suddenly welling up again.

“I know, I know... I’m sorry for being so horrible but I just don’t know what to do! If the article releases tomorrow I’m going to have to face everyone for five days before I leave on holiday! _Five days!_ ”

“But, you want people to know, right?” Ginny asked.

“Yes, of course, but I thought the article wouldn’t drop until after Christmas! I thought I’d be able to escape the initial backlash at least.”

“Maybe you still can, though?” Neville said.

“Didn’t you listen? I’m not leaving on holiday until Thursday.” She angrily wiped her face with her sleeve.

“You could just ask the Headmistress for permission to leave early, couldn’t you?”

“I… I guess I could.” She blinked and looked up at him. “But, what about my classes?”

“It’s only for a few days, Hermione,” Ginny said with a smile.

“That’s true...”

“And you can always ask for an extra assignment to make up for anything you miss,” Neville added.

She felt her shoulders slump, the tension that had been holding her up suddenly releasing as she collapsed on the bed. “What did I do to deserve you both?”

Ginny laughed and wrapped an arm around her, just as Neville sat down to join them.

“You helped save the world from a maniac?”

“You guys did that too, you know.”

“Well, us heroes have to stick together,” Neville said with a shrug.

Hermione couldn’t help but smile at that.


	18. Break the Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! Sorry this chapter is a day late, thursday was a busy day for me. Anyway, hope you like this chapter!!

She woke up earlier than usual that Sunday morning, taking the time to have a warm shower before packing the last few items she needed in her trunk.

She was more than happy to leave the castle, knowing that the Great Hall would surely erupt into chaos once the Quibbler arrived in the morning post, but simultaneously she almost wanted to stay.

There was a sort of morbid curiosity forming within her as she thought of witnessing their reactions. Then, of course, staying would entail having to deal with numerous accusations and taunts no doubt, so she knew that she really had no other option.

There was a sharp knock on the door and Hermione quickly went to open it, expecting to see Poppy, but was instead met with the stoic face of Professor Snape staring down at her.

“Oh,” she gasped in surprise. “Good morning, sir.”

“Miss Granger,” he said in response.

“I… I was just waiting for Poppy to come and escort me but-”

“Madam Pomfrey had a pressing matter to handle in the hospital wing and is unavailable. Some dunderhead Hufflepuff boy was hit with a bludger at yesterday’s quidditch practice and still requires care. I will be escorting you.”

“Oh… okay,” she mumbled and awkwardly played with a button on her cloak.

“Your trunk?” he asked after a moment of silence and Hermione jumped into action, turning to face the trunk standing at the foot of her bed.

“Right! I’ve finished packing, sir, I just have to shrink it. Just a momen-”

Before she’d even managed to get her wand out, the trunk had already become no bigger than a box of matches. She looked back over her shoulder in surprise, just in time to spot Professor Snape tuck his own wand back in his sleeve.

“Your magic is unstable, Miss Granger,” he said simply. “You ought to avoid using it whenever possible.”

“I...” she started but then shook her head, realising she didn’t have a good response. “Thank you, sir.”

He merely grunted and summoned her trunk into the palm of his hand, putting it securely in his pocket. “Shall we depart?”

“Oh, yes. Certainly, sir.”

She walked alongside him through the corridors, which were thankfully still quite empty at such an early hour, and out onto the Hogwarts grounds. The snow looked particularly beautiful in the morning sunlight.

Hermione sighed, watching as her breath turned into a cloudy mist.

“Do you require a warming charm?” Professor Snape asked suddenly and she looked at him.

“No, sir. I’m quite alright.” She thought for a moment, wondering if she should attempt small talk or if she should just keep silent. She decided on the former. “It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it, sir?”

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, expression as bland as ever, and she quickly looked down in embarrassment, regretting her decision to speak for a second.

“It is,” he finally said and Hermione fought to keep herself from smiling. _Small talk.. I’m having small talk with Severus Snap_ _e._

“I’m sorry if Poppy forced you to escort me. I’m sure you’d rather stay inside despite the good weather.”

“I offered.”

“What?” she asked and looked up at him again, meeting his dark gaze.

“I offered to escort you, Miss Granger.” She gaped, but then quickly snapped her mouth shut, realising she likely resembled a fish with such a look on her face, but he did not comment on it like she thought he would. “I understand you need to get out of the castle before the news break, and you are hardly in any condition to travel on your own.”

_Does he think I’m entirely helpless?_ She thought indignantly and glared at him before she could think better of it. “I can take care of myself, sir.”

“If you recall,” he began, his jaw tightening as he countered her glare, “your magic is unstable. Apparition could prove deadly should you attempt it on your own.”

“Oh...” Just as soon as the anger had arrived, it left. “Oh, I’m so sorry, sir! I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately.”

She rubbed her hand over her face in shame. _I’ve made a complete fool of myself._

“I suspect hormones are to blame, Miss Granger. Think nothing of it.”

“Still, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

“I _said,_ ” he aimed a sharp look at her just as they reached the gates and they swung open with a wave of his hand, “think nothing of it.”

“Of course...” she choked out and followed him the last few feet to the apparition point.

He held his arm out and she hesitantly curled her hand around the crook of his elbow, but as soon as the familiar sensation of apparating reached her, she held on to him for dear life.

Once they landed on solid ground she was clinging to his arm, bending over at the waist and breathing deeply as the dizziness still swirled in her head.

“Are you feeling alright, Miss Granger?”

“Just nauseous… Give me a moment, please.”

A few minutes passed and she slowly righted herself, her breathing less laboured and her stomach finally settling to normal. “I’m okay now… I’m okay.”

“Are you feeling any pain?” Professor Snape asked as his gaze swept over her, looking for any troubling signs that something was wrong. She fought a shiver.

“No, sir. I feel fine now.”

“Very well,” he relented and led her out from the small alley they had apparated into. “Which house is it?”

“Number 36,” she said and pointed to the red brick house across the street. “That one.”

He nodded and they both walked up to the porch. Hermione rang the doorbell, giving her Professor a tight smile as they waited.

Only a few seconds passed before the door swung open and Hermione was caught in a warm embrace.

“Hermione! Oh, how good to see you!” Her mother said and kissed her cheek as she pulled back, a bright smile lighting up her face. “You look beautiful darling. Glowing!”

Hermione laughed and tucked a curl behind her ear. “Thanks, mum. It’s good to see you too.”

Her mother then looked over Hermione’s shoulder at Professor Snape.

“Hello! And you are?”

“Professor Severus Snape.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Jean Granger, Hermione’s mother.” She then turned to Hermione. “Let me just go wake up your father, he’s still sleeping. I’ll be just a moment!”

She disappeared back inside and up the stairs and Hermione carefully stepped into the hallway, peering around the corners to look at the kitchen and living room.

The new house wasn’t too different from her childhood home, but there was a lighter mood settled over it, like a fresh start.

“Miss Granger,” Professor Snape said from behind her and she turned to him. It was strange seeing him in the hallway of a muggle home.

“Yes, sir?” He held out a wooden box and she took it with both hands, looking at him questioningly. “A… Christmas gift?”

He snorted, but Hermione couldn’t quite tell if it was in amusement or mockery. Either way she felt silly. “Nothing so trivial, but if you wish to think of it that way, be my guest.”

She unhooked small latch at the front and opened the lid, revealing a small set of full potion vials, labelled in his distinct spiky scrawl.

“They are modified specifically for your needs and should pose no harm to you or the child,” he explained and, once again, her mouth fell agape as she read the contents.

_Pain-relief. Anti-nausea. Blood-replenisher. Calming draught. Invigoration draught._

“I… I didn’t know such modified potions existed. Poppy told me there wasn’t really anything she could give me and I never found anything while researching.”

“I created them.”

Her eyes lit up with interest. “You _created_ them?”

“Hermione!” her father called as he came downstairs, enveloping her in a hug before her Professor could respond. “It’s good to have you home.”

“Oh, hi dad!” she said, still holding the box of potions in one hand as she hugged him back, closing the lid with her thumb.

Her father pulled away and looked at her Professor and then out the open door with a frown. “I hope none of the neighbours saw you dressed in your cloaks… They might think it strange.”

“I cast a concealment charm around us. They haven’t seen a thing, I assure you, Mr. Granger.”

_When did he do that?_ Hermione thought vaguely.

“Oh, well then!” Her father smiled and stuck out his hand for Professor Snape to shake. “And please, call me John.”

“Would you care for some tea, Professor?” her mother then asked as she joined them downstairs. “Or a cup of coffee perhaps?”

“No, thank you. I should be going.” Professor Snape answered and swiftly turned to Hermione. “Do not hesitate to send a Patronus to me or Poppy if you experience any complications, with the potions or in general.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, out of habit more than anything, but he was already halfway out the door. She called out after him, “Thank you! And Happy Christmas, sir!”

The only indication that he heard her was a slight falter in his stride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't responded to comments lately as I haven't really had the time (so many of them!! I'm amazed, really) but please know that I read them all and I appreciate all of your feedback!


	19. Penny For Your Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little short, I split it up because I still have some editing to do on the last part of it but I didn't want to leave you guys without an update.
> 
> Thanks for the all the wonderful comments! Again, it's been a bit stressful trying to respond to all of them but I read them all and appreciate your thoughts so much!   
> I hope you like this chapter!

When the first owl arrived at breakfast, sitting outside the kitchen window with a howler clutched in its beak, Hermione’s appetite quickly vanished. With each owl that joined the first, carrying matching red envelopes, a new wave of shame rolled through her, so powerful she almost broke down in tears.

She knew what they must be thinking of her at Hogwarts, in the Wizarding world. She could clearly imagine the outrage, the shock, at hearing the news. _Hermione Granger is pregnant._

Her father, sitting across from her at the kitchen table, seemed to be at a loss of what to do. He merely looked at her with sad sympathetic eyes and then returned his focus to his steaming tea.

Hermione’s cup had already turned cold, over half of her drink remaining, and for a time she could do nothing but stare at it.

“Come with me, darling,” her mother said as she came downstairs and Hermione looked up at her in surprise.

“Where?”

“I ran a bath for you. I thought you might enjoy freshening up a bit.”

Hermione nodded, managing a smile, and followed her mother upstairs. It would be nice to not have to look at those owls anymore.

She sighed as she slowly climbed into the tub, the milky water surrounding her in warmth as she sank down beneath the surface, leaving her shoulders and head exposed.

Her mother smiled and sat down on a stool behind her, gathering Hermione’s hair in her hands, combing them through with her fingers.

“I used to give you baths like these when you were little, do you remember?” she said and scooped up some water with a porcelain jug, pouring it gently over Hermione’s curls.

“I do.”

“Isn’t it amazing that I’m giving you a bath now once more, but you’re pregnant with your own child.”

Hermione looked down, putting her hands on her swollen belly. “It is.”

“Have you thought of a name yet?” her mother asked, diligently pouring more water to soak the hair.

“Not really,” Hermione said in slight defeat. “Things have been so busy with school and with my friends, I just haven’t been able to focus properly on it.”

“Don’t worry, love. It will come to you, I’m sure of it.”

“Is that why I was named Hermione? Did it just come to you?”

Her mother laughed. “I suppose it did. I can’t remember when exactly the name became an option but as soon as it did, I knew. That was _your_ name.”

“How did dad react?” she asked abruptly, glancing over her shoulder.

“To your name? Or to the pregnancy?” her mother responded, reaching over to grab the bottle of shampoo balanced on the side of the tub.

“Both, I guess.” Hermione shrugged.

“Well, he liked your name. Always has.” She began to massage the shampoo through Hermione’s roots and continued, “When I told him I was pregnant he was… upset. I don’t blame him for it, he didn’t fully understand. I still don’t think he does sometimes, it’s a complicated thing to comprehend.”

Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

“But he came around after a while, and I know that he considers you his daughter no less than he would a biological child.” She filled the jug once more and started washing out the lather. “I’m glad that you found people who understand you, love. Your friends, your Professors.”

“I’m glad too…” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“How had school been recently? All those stairs in the castle must be a pain.”

Hermione laughed. “Oh, they are! My back aches almost every evening, and my ankles too!”

“I don’t miss that feeling one bit,” her mother said teasingly and reached for the conditioner, coating Hermione’s curls evenly with the product. “Is there no medicine for that?”

“No,” Hermione sighed but then frowned. “Or, well, there _is._ Professor Snape made some potions that he said would work, but I haven’t tried them yet. I got them yesterday when he dropped me off.”

“Why didn’t he give them to you earlier?”

“He didn’t _know._ Besides, he created those potions himself to help me. They didn’t even exist before.”

Hermione was still not quite over the fact that Professor Snape had gone out of his way like that. She’d never known him as a generous man, and receiving a gift so thoughtful from him was almost frightening.

The conversations she’d had with him as he’d escorted her ranged from casual, borderline friendly, to scolding, making her feel like a first year again. Hermione wasn’t sure where she stood with the man anymore. The lines that had defined them, separated them as student and teacher, now seemed oddly blurred.

Had it felt equally as confusing when she’d begun her friendship with Minerva and Poppy? She couldn’t recall.

“Oh, that’s nice of him. You know, I had a feeling he was the protective kind,” her mother said and Hermione’s brows furrowed.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You’ve only met him once, mum.”

“True,” she sighed. “But didn’t you notice how attentive he was when you got here? He seemed very aware, even making sure no neighbours saw you.”

“I… I think that might just be a habit from the war… He worked as a spy, you know? And he saved me, Harry, and Ron many times when we got in trouble.”

Hermione was sure that whatever protectiveness her mother had noticed, it was nothing more than a routine for Professor Snape. _Don’t let the Golden Trio get themselves killed._

“Perhaps,” her mother agreed and began to rinse the conditioner out. “Why did you decide to tell him about the pregnancy? I thought you said all the teachers would read the news in the paper.”

“Well...” Hermione began, wincing at the memory. “There was a sort of, um, _incident_ that required me to tell him.”

“Incident?”

“I… I started bleeding in detention and he tried to help but didn’t know what to do and… It was just a mess.”

“You started bleeding? Oh darling, why didn’t you tell me this sooner? You know you can always send a letter!” Her mother leaned forward and hugged her gently from behind, her chin on Hermione’s wet head.

“I know, it’s just… I’ve just tried to forget about it, mum. It was terrifying but it all worked out, I’m okay now.”

She really was okay. Although it was still horrible to think about it, she felt that it could only get better from here.

Her mother held her for a few seconds longer and was just about to pull back when Hermione stopped her, holding her arm in place with one hand.

“What is it?” her mother asked and a smile grew on Hermione’s face.

“She’s kicking.”

She guided her mother’s hand down to her stomach beneath the water, placing her palm right to the side of her bellybutton, right where the irregular fluttering of little feet could be felt. “There, can you feel it?”

“I feel it…” She stroked Hermione’s cheek with her free hand as they both quieted, both lost in the moment, doing nothing but feeling.

Her mother eventually spoke again, her words echoing softly around the tiled walls of the bathroom. “Words can’t describe how proud I am of you, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled and leaned into her mother’s touch. “I love you, mum.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: To everyone going to any of the protests going on, please stay safe! And thank you for standing up for justice!  
> I unfortunately can't attend any protests where I live, but I support you all wholeheartedly and am signing petitions and donating what I can! I hope everyone in the same position as me are doing the same. Together we can create change. Black Lives Matter.


	20. A Snowball's Chance in Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, short chapter here, but it's to be expected at this point lol. Longer chapters are coming soon, I promise!!
> 
> I hope you like this one, enjoy!

The morning sun peeked over the horizon, gleaming over the castle grounds, Boxing Day arriving in a quiet fashion. Most students had left days ago, and the few that had stayed remained sleeping in their dorms. The faculty was likely doing the same, exhausted from the festivities of Christmas Day.

Severus, however, was up early.

_Does it still count as being up early if I never went to sleep in the first place?_ he thought vaguely as he roamed the halls.

He’d left the Christmas party at 10pm, offering to patrol the castle as an excuse to leave. No one had questioned him. They never did anymore, knowing that if he stayed he would only dampen the mood. But Minerva had sent him a pitiful look, one that he found himself despising the more he thought about it.

He didn’t need her pity. It wasn’t as if he’d never spent Christmas Day alone before. He’d done so plenty of times, and this time was no different. He simply disliked the holiday with its obnoxious décor and annoyingly catchy songs, but the gift-giving was by far the worst part.

He never knew what his colleagues wanted and always resorted to buying them each a bottle of Ogden’s. They, in turn, seemed equally clueless of what to give him and so he mostly received some sort of alcohol, usually Ogden’s.

_What an idiotic exchange._

This year was certainly no different, at least as far as Minerva could be concerned. She didn’t need to know why his mood was worse that usual. She didn’t need to know why he roamed the halls until sunrise. She didn’t need to know how pathetic he was.

_How could I even begin to explain it? “I’m upset because Hermione fucking Granger didn’t send me a Christmas Gift”? How mortifying that would be._

He had no right to be upset. He hadn’t given Granger anything for Christmas, so how could he expect something back?

It didn’t matter that she’d thought the potions were a gift. He’d done nothing more than what was required of him, but of course the girl had the nerve to _thank him_ for them _._ Didn’t she see that the potions were an apology? She didn’t need to thank him for that, she should only take it and move on.

_And yet here I am, waiting for praise in the form of a bloody gift… Hypocrite._

For hours he’d been plagued with these thoughts and the only thing that seemed to quiet them down was walking. Endless walking. How many times had he passed that statue? He was almost sure that was the seventh time that hour.

The past week, Granger had been at the forefront of his mind. He’d been unable to avoid it really although he’d certainly tried, but the gossip around the halls had made it impossible.

Chaos had ensued once the article was released, and getting the taunting whispers to end entirely had taken days. Dozens of detentions were assigned, by Severus as well as the other Professors, and well over a hundred house points had been deducted before the dunderheads understood the message.

_Don’t speak ill of Miss Granger._

Severus was almost surprised it had taken them so long to realise the fact that Granger was, and always had been, a favourite of the faculty. What made them think they could insult her openly in the halls, even when she was not present? _Imbeciles._

The Slytherins, however, had caught on rather quickly once Severus deducted 50 points from one of them.

It was hardly a secret that Severus rarely took points from his own house, and in some ways the Slytherins had become too comfortable with such security. The war was over, and he no longer had to play a role. They knew now that their actions, no matter the teacher present, would prove to have consequences.

_Don’t speak ill of Miss Granger._

Weariness crept into his bones, and his feet, without consulting him, took him in the direction of his chambers. He hardly even remembered walking there until he was standing in his sitting room, staring down at the couch.

How odd it was to think that just over a week ago Granger had slept there, on his couch, after revealing the secret he’d desperately searched to unveil. How strange that he’d thought this obsession over her would disappear once he learned the truth of her condition.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

He rubbed his hand over his face, feeling his eyelids droop unwillingly as he slumped down on the couch. _Damn_ _,_ he was tired.

The sudden green flames that erupted in his fireplace made him jump and he reached for his wand instinctively, relaxing only when he heard Minerva’s voice.

“Severus? Are you awake?”

He sighed and leaned back, rolling his neck slowly to rid himself of the ache that was settling there. “Yes, Minerva. What do you want?”

“Happy Boxing Day to you too, you grump,” she said with a grumble. “This came for you by owl.”

A hand emerged from the flames, holding a silver parcel with white decorative string wrapped around it, a small tag attached to the little bow on top. Severus stared at it, his heart starting to thump far too loudly in his chest.

_Could it be-?_

“You should really find another way to get your mail, Severus. I’m tired of waking up at 6am to your owls pecking at my window.”

He wasn’t listening, he just approached the fireplace, reaching out to take the package from her hand. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“You’re welcome. But really, have your mail delivered at breakfast like a normal person. I’m going back to bed.”

The fire died down as Minerva ended the Floo connection, and Severus was left in the dark, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

A wave of his hand lit the candles around the room, filling the space with a soft warm glow, and he gingerly turned the tag to read it.

“ _To Professor Severus Snape.”_

He turned the package over and started peeling away the tape, folding away the silver paper. A small letter fell out in the process.

“ _Happy Christmas Professor Snape.  
I’d like to start off by apologising for the lateness of my gift. I ordered it by mail you see and it took some time trying to find the right owl amidst all the howlers in my yard._

_I hope you like it though._ _Even if the potions you gifted me were not meant as a Christmas gift I still wanted to give you something back. Your support means a lot, sir. Thank you again._

_Sincerely, Hermione Granger.”_

He swallowed thickly and finished unwrapping the paper, his hands almost shaking as he picked up the book that lay inside.

_**Ancient Potions:** an Analysis of the Origins of Modern Potion Making._

It was an advanced book, not rare by any means, but rather a forgotten piece in the academic world. It’s contents were often overlooked, reworked editions of Moste Potente Potions being favoured whenever the science of potions was discussed.

Severus would know. He’d read this book numerous times, a copy of it currently laying open on a counter in his potions lab, having been used to develop the modified recipes he’d created for Granger.

She didn’t know that, of course. She didn’t know how he’d scanned the pages looking for guidance to aid her. She didn’t know, and yet she’d managed to find something so spot on, so _perfect._

Never in his life had he received a gift that struck a cord in him like this one did. Never.

He could hardly breathe as he stood up, the book clutched tightly in his white-knuckled hand, his shaky legs taking him to the potions lab.

He swept the old book off the counter, not caring how it smacked into the stone floor, and carefully put the new one in its place. His fingers lingered on the cover as his mind swirled with thoughts.

He’d spent all night despairing over the lack of a gift, and now that he had one the satisfaction was tainted with a creeping dread. She’d given him a gift, and now once again he owed her. The potions were to even out their stance, and now she’d made it uneven again.

Not only that, but he found himself not minding it. He _wanted_ to find something to give back to her. He wanted to _please_ her.

_Fuck,_ he thought and closed his tired eyes. _I’m too far gone._


	21. So Far So Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels more like filler than I'd like it to, but we're back to Hogwarts next week and you'll finally get some more SSHG interactions!  
> Hang in there guys.
> 
> And happy Midsummer to all those celebrating!!

The owls were gone. Hermione didn’t know how or why, but they were gone. As far as she knew, magical owls were very persistent and when instructed they would not leave until the missive had been delivered.

As she wandered downstairs and into the kitchen, their sudden disappearance suddenly made a lot more sense. Minerva was seated at the table with a steaming cup of tea in her hands, conversing amiably with her mother.

They both looked up when she walked in.

“Good morning, love,” her mother said with a smile, pouring Hermione a fresh cup of tea as she joined them.

“Good morning, Hermione.” Minerva nodded at her in greeting.

“Good morning,” Hermione echoed. “Where have all the owls gone?”

“I sent them away, they won’t bother you again.”

“Oh… I thought they’d never leave.”

“Well, they probably wouldn’t have if I hadn’t done something about it.”

“Good riddance,” her mother sighed.

“Thank you,” Hermione murmured and sipped her tea. “How did you even know it was a problem?”

“Severus mentioned it yesterday and I thought it prudent to do something about it. You don’t deserve to be harassed by owls in such a manner.”

Hermione blinked, surprised that Professor Snape had even caught that detail in her letter. She hadn’t written to him to complain, nor to beg for help, but it appeared he’d noticed her predicament even through her casual words.

“Oh…” Hermione didn’t know what else to say.

“You sent him a Christmas gift, did you not?” Minerva asked and dunked a biscuit in her cup.

“I did,” she said, hesitating for a moment. “Has he… mentioned it?”

She was oddly nervous as she awaited the answer. There was still a part of her that was desperate for the man’s approval, but it felt different from when she handed in an essay or brewed a potion in class. This was more personal.

If he liked the gift it meant that she’d chosen right, that she knew him at least a little. It was one step closer to becoming his friend. Hermione hadn’t quite realised that _‘becoming Severus Snape’s friend’_ was an actual goal in her mind until that very moment.

“In passing, if I recall correctly. Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering if he liked it.”

Her mother kindly interjected, “I’m sure he did, love.”

Minerva nodded in agreement and added, “What did you give him, if I may ask?”

“A book. A potion’s book.”

“I see.” Minerva leaned back in her chair and smiled. “I’ve always found it difficult to give him books. He tends to own them already, but I’m certain you found a good one for him. After all, you’re something of a book expert yourself.”

Hermione forced a tight smile to hide her disappointment. ‘ _He tends to own them already’… Ugh, I should have chosen something different. Perhaps he’d been happier to receive a bottle of Ogden’s._

“Anyway,” Hermione changed the subject, “thank you again for stopping by and getting rid of all those owls.”

“Anytime, dear. Now, your mother tells me you haven’t looked at names for the baby yet?”

Hermione looked at her mother with a mock glare.

“What? I think it’s about time to start going over ideas.” Her mother raised an eyebrow, gesturing with one hand to Hermione’s rounded belly, the bump visible even with her fluffy dressing gown on. “We don’t have all the time in the world.”

Hermione laughed lightly. “Okay, fine, we can start going over some options. What do you two have in mind?”

~~~

“These few weeks went by far too quickly!” her father said as he embraced her, stroking her hair as he did so.

“I know, dad… But you’ll see me soon enough!”

“And by then we’ll have another little girl to dote over,” her mother said and hugged her as well. “You haven’t decided on a name yet? I thought Minerva and I had some pretty good names.”

“I don’t know, mum. None of them really stuck with me, but I’ll think about it.”

Ava, Eden, Willow, Adora… the list of options went on and Hermione wasn’t sure how she’d ever choose. But, nevertheless, she’d have to do so before long.

“What about my suggestion?” her father asked and Hermione shook her head, laughing.

“Margaret feels a bit too old fashioned for my taste.”

“It’s hideous, John,” her mother said.

“My grandmother happened to be named Margaret!” he exclaimed with a playful jab.

“Which is exactly why she shouldn’t choose that.”

“I’ll think about that name too, dad,” Hermione conceded, amused at her parents’ disagreement, just as the doorbell rang.

“Good.” He smiled and went to answer the door, allowing Minerva to enter.

“Good afternoon,” she greeted and clasped her hands in front of her. “Are you ready to depart, dear?”

“I am,” Hermione responded, a familiar nervousness creeping up her spine. She’d fought off the anxiousness about returning to Hogwarts for days now, preferring not to think about it, and with more effort than usual she pushed the nerves away once more. “I just need to shrink my trunk.”

“Let me.” Minerva waved her wand and Hermione put the small trunk in her pocket. “Now, where is your fireplace?”

All four of them headed over to the living room and Minerva stepped in front of the fireplace, beginning to weave a spell through the stones of the hearth. A minute later she was done, placing a jar of floo powder on the mantelpiece.

“Thank you, Minerva,” Hermione said and turned to embrace her parents one more time. “I’ll miss you.”

“We’ll miss you too, love. Stay safe, and don’t hesitate to floo us if you need to! Or come visit if you have the time.” her mother said into Hermione’s hair.

She laughed. “The floo connection hasn’t even been installed for a minute yet and you already want me to use it to talk to you.”

“How could we not?” her father said and smiled. “Magic is wonderful.”

“It is,” Hermione agreed and stepped back, joining Minerva where she waited, a handful of floo powder held in her fist.

“Goodbye mum. Goodbye dad. I’ll see you!”

“Goodbye!” they both called out as Hermione and Minerva disappeared in green flames.


	22. Every Cloud Has a Silver Lining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO sorry that this chapter is a few weeks late! Life had been incredibly busy, but I'm back now!  
> Hopefully I can manage to post this Thursday as well ;)
> 
> This chapter had me struggling a bit for some reason, but I think you guys will like it anyway. Be prepared for some time jumps in later chapters though, as I don't have too much patience for parts that aren't SSHG lol

Hermione stared resolutely down on her plate, taking another bite of her toast. It was too dry and she struggled to swallow it.

She was acutely aware of the eyes upon her, the Great Hall eerily silent that morning. Neville and Ginny flanked her sides but they did not engage in conversation. It was clear that Hermione wasn’t in the mood.

Despite how uncomfortable she was with the intense scrutiny from her peers, she was thankful that none had dared to speak to her yet. She’d been fearing their taunts all morning, but they all remained quiet.

If the rumours were true, they all had a good reason to keep their mouths shut.

Ginny and Neville had told her that the teachers had been ruthlessly taking points and assigning detentions after the news broke. Hermione could only hope that the students had learned their lesson by now.

“Ready to go?” Neville asked and Hermione looked up at him.

“Where?”

“Potions. Class is starting in 10 minutes.”

Hermione looked around the Great Hall, first now noticing that only a few students remained. “Oh… yeah.”

“It’ll be fine, Hermione.”

Hermione nodded, even though she didn’t quite believe it herself.

They made their way to the dungeons in silence, Neville offering a gentle nudge with his elbow before they sat down in their respective seats.

Professor Snape entered shortly after, striding up to the front. “Wiggenweld Potion. Get started.”

Chairs scraped the floor as the students moved to gather their ingredients and soon enough they were all starting the brewing process.

Hermione was thankful for the distraction. She found herself zoning in on her work, all worry over the situation fading as her mind focused on the task at hand. She dutifully started preparing the ingredients, glancing occasionally at the cauldron and adjusting the heat when needed.

She was about halfway done when she was jolted out of her thoughts, a small ball of crumpled up paper landing on her desk after it bounced on her temple. She froze, staring at it for a moment before reaching out to unfold it.

“ _How many?”_

Hermione frowned at the text in confusion. Was someone trying to ask her for help with the potion? The instructions were written on the board, surely it couldn’t be that hard to simply read them again?

She looked over her shoulder in the direction the paper had been thrown and immediately met the eyes of a Slytherin boy sitting one row down, just to the right of her. He smirked, gesturing at the paper, and Hermione looked down at it again.

A new text revealed itself.

“ _How many guys did you let shag you before one_ _finally_ _knocked you up?”_

She crumpled the paper in her fist and glared back at the boy, angry tears welling up as she watched him stifle his giggles. His friends were doing the same, hands covering their mouths in silent laughter.

“Something amusing?” Professor Snape asked suddenly and their gazes focused on the Professor. He slowly rose from his seat, eyes locked onto the Slytherin boys.

“No, sir,” the main boy responded, swallowing audibly. Hermione watched with bated breath, feeling the tension in the room thicken.

“You were clearly laughing. Go on. What is so amusing?”

No one answered.

The note was abruptly tugged from Hermione’s hand, flying across the room and into Professor Snape’s waiting palm. He glanced down at it, and then back up, his face stony, but fury blazing in his eyes.

_If looks could kill._

“Care to explain?”

His voice was deceptively calm, inviting one to answer even as one knew the danger that awaited.

“It was just a joke, sir.”

“A… joke?” He stepped around his desk, advancing upon the Slytherin slowly.

“Yes, sir.”

“You disrupt my class, distract your classmates while brewing an advanced potion, for a _joke?_ ”

“I… uh...”

“Silence!” he growled and before the boy could even react, the Professor was upon him, grabbing hold of the collar of his shirt to drag him out of his seat, yanking him close so they were face to face.

“The fact that you thought even for a _second_ that such behaviour would be tolerated in my classroom shows what an absolute _imbecile_ you are. You don’t belong in a NEWT level class and you most certainly don’t belong in the House of Slytherin. You’re hereby _banned_ from this class and have earned yourself detention every week for the rest of the school year! If I see your face in here again I’ll make you _regret the very day you were born_. Now get. Out.”

The boy fled the classroom as Professor Snape released him, his chair falling to the floor with a bang in his haste. As the door slammed behind him a heavy silence settled, the only sound left being the thudding of Hermione’s heart in her chest.

Professor Snape straightened, his eyes roaming the room until they settled on her. Did she imagine that? The slight softening in his gaze?

“Let this be a lesson for all of you.” He looked away and walked back to his desk, sitting down again before giving one last command. “Continue.”

No one dared to question him, least of all Hermione, but she could not find the focus from before as she continued the brewing process. Her mind was still in shock after witnessing how Professor Snape defended her.

He banned someone from his class! A Slytherin no less! Such a thing was unheard of.

_He did that for… me?_

She forced herself to finish the potion, to follow the instructions as carefully as she could, but she knew it was not as good as usual. It was sub-par, at best. And yet, when Professor Snape looked over their work at the end of the class, he said nothing, only looked at her with the same oddly soft eyes as before.

“You ready to go?” Neville quietly asked her as she finished cleaning her desk, the other students already spilling out of the room. She bit her lip, glancing up at the Professor for just a moment before she looked down.

“I… I think I need to talk to Professor Snape, Neville. Don’t wait for me, I’ll join you in Herbology.”

“Are you sure?” he asked and stepped closer. “I could stay, if you need me to.”

“I’m sure. Thanks, though.”

Neville nodded and soon enough, the door closed and only Hermione and Professor Snape were left in the room.

“Miss Granger.” The Professor spoke without looking up from the paper on which he was writing. “Shouldn’t you be heading to the next class?”

“I should, Professor… But I wanted to speak to you.” He looked up, quirking his eyebrow, and Hermione awkwardly cleared her throat. “I just… I wanted to thank you, sir. For defending me like that.”

He blinked, jaw clenching. “That sort of behaviour is unacceptable while brewing. Had the potion been a more dangerous one, it could have ended in an explosion.”

“Of course, sir,” she mumbled. _Of course he was only thinking about the safety of the class. This has nothing to do with you, Hermione. He didn’t ban that boy just for you._ She preferred not to think about why that made her chest ache in disappointment.

“Was there something else?” he asked and she swallowed.

Not really. She had only thought to thank him and then leave, but now she found herself wanting to stay, wanting to talk to him. She wanted a real conversation with him, like she’d had when he’d escorted her back home.

Perhaps it was stupid of her to want to get close to a man so callous as him, but she wanted it nonetheless. She wanted to befriend him, to be able to speak to him without the pressure of needing to sound like a good student, without needing to be perfect.

Hermione had always been interested in mysteries, in unexplainable things. What could be more mysterious, more of an enigma, than Severus Snape?

“How… how did you make those potions for me?”

“I invented them, as I’ve told you.”

“Yes, I know, but how can you just _invent_ a potion? I only know how to follow the instructions, how could you change the instructions without risking danger?”

“You can’t,” he said with a sigh and rubbed his temples. “Are you really interested in this, Granger, or are you simply asking because you _can_?”

“I’m interested.” That wasn’t a lie. She truly wanted to know, yet another answer she needed to satisfy her curiosity.

“In that case you may join me to brew this Saturday,” Hermione’s eyes widened at the suggestion as he quickly he added, “provided that you follow my _every instruction_. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir!” she exclaimed, barely stopping herself from jumping with joy.

“Very well. You are dismissed.”

“Okay. Thank you, sir!” She grabbed her bag and made for the door.

“Granger.”

She stopped, turning as he spoke her name.

“Did the potions work? No side effects?” His brow was creased in a slight frown as he looked her over. She almost shivered as his eyes roamed her body.

“They did, sir. I only had to use the pain relief a few times for my back, thankfully, but it worked without a problem.”

“Good,” he mumbled and gave her a sharp nod.

She left the classroom with a smile on her face.


	23. As Right as Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a few comments mentioning this, I realised I might not have been completely clear, but the article that was released DOES explain that her pregnancy is magical. However, teens can be mean and it's not hard to believe that they'll think "magic" is just an excuse for "idk who the father is". And as I've written in this chapter, purebloods are also likely prone to believe Hermione is lying because "how could a muggleborn be more magical than them"? 
> 
> I hope that clears things up!
> 
> Thanks for all the reviews so far, I'm super happy you like it! Now, here's some more SSHG action ;)

“They’re idiots! The whole lot of them!” Ginny exclaimed, shaking her head in frustration.

“Well, you’re not wrong...” Hermione mumbled in response, folding up her uniform and placing it on top of her trunk after changing into a looser set of robes. Her uniform was really starting to get tight around her stomach these days. She would need to have them adjusted, or perhaps simply stop wearing them.

“Why won’t they believe you? If anything _they_ should understand how powerful magic can be!”

“It’s no surprise when you think about it, Ginny. They’ve always doubted my magical ability, as well as other muggleborns’. Just because the war is over doesn’t mean that the prejudice is gone.”

“I’ll snap their necks myself, I swear.”

“You’ll do me no good in Azkaban!” Hermione said, smiling fondly. “And although I appreciate the sentiment, I think Professor Snape scared most of them into silence a few days ago.”

“But not _all_ of them,” Ginny retorted. “I still hear them gossiping in the halls sometimes.”

“I don’t think there’s anything that will stop them. I wish there was, but at this point I don’t even want to bother. Eventually they will find something else to talk about, right?”

“Your name is getting dragged through the dirt, Hermione! How can you not care?”

“I DO care! But there’s nothing to be done. People are going to talk anyway and I can’t spend every day worrying about it. Weren’t you the one who told me that just a few weeks ago? I just want to live my life in peace.”

Ginny sighed, slumping down on Hermione’s bed. “I know what I said but… ugh, it’s just different when it’s actually happening.”

“Trust me, Ginny, I know.” Hermione cast a quick tempus, seeing it was almost 7pm already. “I have to get going. Professor Snape asked me to be at his office by 7.”

Ginny shook her head. “I still can’t believe he agreed to private tutor you.”

“He hasn’t agreed to _private tutor_ me! He just said I could join him to brew, not that he would actually teach me something,” Hermione explained for what felt like the hundredth time. She’d been trying not to get her hopes up all week, afraid that the reality wouldn’t live up to her expectations.

“You wanna know what I think?” Ginny asked with a teasing smirk. “I think he has a soft spot for you.”

Hermione couldn’t contain a surprised laugh. “Professor Snape? A soft spot? Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Think about it! Going after what you’ve told me, he seems to have been awfully helpful to you lately. Making you potions, escorting you home for the holiday, _private tutoring you._ Snape doesn’t exactly do that often, if _ever._ You’re special.”

Hermione’s heart sped up involuntarily at the thought. “Do you really think he… has a soft spot for me?”

Ginny gave her a sharp nod. “I’m willing to bet on it.”

“How much?”

Ginny’s grin widened. “50 galleons.”

“50? You sure?”

“Very much so.”

“Alright... Then I bet that he only invited me to brew because he knew I’d never shut up about it if he didn’t.”

“And I bet that you’re _wrong_ and that he wants to spend time with you _._ ”

Hermione only shot her friend a wicked smile in response before she left for the dungeons.

Perhaps it was stupid to bet on the wrong side. In truth, she was very much hoping that Ginny would win this bet and that Professor Snape did indeed _like_ her on some degree. Even if only as a friend.

_Especially_ only as a friend.

She most certainly didn’t hope for something more, even though her stomach fluttered with delight at the idea of it. Her mind replayed how he’d come to her defence in class earlier that week and she had to remind herself that, as he’d told her, it had only been to restore order. It had nothing in particular to do with her.

Again, disappointment ached behind her ribs, but it was for the best. What good would it do to develop a silly crush on her teacher only because he showed her a small amount of kindness? It was best to stay grounded, focused on what she _actually_ wanted.

She wanted to become his friend, to gain insight to that brilliant mind of his. Was that so wrong?

_No. Definitely not wrong._

She arrived at his office precisely at 7pm, knocking sharply on the heavy wooden door. It swung open mere seconds later, revealing Professor Snape’s tall form in the doorway.

“Miss Granger.”

She ignored how her heart stuttered as he spoke.

“Good evening, Professor.”

“Follow me.”

She hurried to catch up with him as he whirled around, already halfway across the room before she fell into a stride behind him. Another door swung open, one that led to a place she had dreamt of seeing for years now.

_Oh my god… I’m about to see his private lab!_

She could barely contain her giddiness and almost collided with his back as he abruptly stopped.

Throwing a glance at her over his shoulder, he muttered, “Do calm yourself. We don’t want you to cause an accident in your haste, do we? I’d prefer it if you didn’t lie dying on the dungeon floor yet again.”

Properly chastised, she took a deep breath and clasped her hands in front of her. “Of course, sir.”

With that, he finally stepped aside to allow her to enter, and Hermione’s eyes widened at the sight.

Shelves stacked with books, cauldrons, and various odd artefacts lined the walls. A large granite desk stood in the centre of the room, a cauldron already bubbling on top of it. To the left was a door for what she assumed was the storeroom, and in the right corner was a deep sink, some tools still hanging to the side of it to dry after being used and washed.

“This is… amazing,” she couldn’t help whispering, her feet slowly taking her further into the room, eyes admiring every detail. She doubted this lab was equipped by the school, the quality of the items far too expensive and rare for the budget, surely.

The lab had Severus Snape written all over it.

“I’m glad you approve,” the Professor said and Hermione spun around to look at him.

“I… It’s just… It must have taken _years_ to achieve this level of high standard.”

“Indeed.” He closed the door after him and advanced toward the bubbling cauldron, pointedly not looking at her. His eyes were entirely focused on his work. “My entire teaching career to be exact.”

“ _Merlin_...”

“Are you ready to begin?” His voice almost startled her.

“Yes!”

He looked up at her then, an eyebrow raised, and she could feel her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Her enthusiasm was showing again, but he didn’t comment on it.

“You will be brewing pain relief potion. You know what ingredients to fetch.”

She blinked. “ _I_ will be brewing?”

“Unless you prefer to me to do it?”

Part of her wanted desperately to watch him brew, to see how truly in his element he could be, but another part of her could not decline the offer to work in such an extraordinary lab.

“I can do it, sir!”

He gave her a nod and she quickly headed to the storeroom, shielding her smile from his few, mind set on proving herself.

~~~

An hour later she was fully engaged in work, dicing and chopping ingredients left and right, measuring and adding them as she went, listening intently for new directions from her Professor.

The base of the potion was done and Hermione was ready to start the second stage of the brewing process, her hand already reaching for the sliced asphodel, when Professor Snape’s fingers encircled her wrist, stopping her.

She gasped, looking up to meet his dark eyes, but he had already released her, stepping away to walk around the desk. He did not face her again until he was opposite her, the granite like a shield of distance between them.

Her skin tingled oddly from his touch, though his grasp had been gentle.

“What?” she asked in confusion, still feeling breathless from his nearness.

He cleared his throat discreetly. “Don’t add the asphodel yet.”

“Why? Have I missed a step?” She went over the stages in her head, searching for a mistake. She knew the process inside out, how could she have messed up?

“Have you already forgotten why you asked to be here in the first place? I thought you wanted to learn how I modified the potions to make them safe for your consumption?”

“Oh,” Hermione said dumbly, feeling exceptionally idiotic in that moment. “Right, I got ahead of myself...”

“Clearly.” She half-awaited a scolding for her mishap, but again, he said nothing more about it. “Add powdered bitter root first.”

“That’s not on the ingredient list, how did you know to add that?”

“The toxic component that is harmful a fetus is counteracted when the bitter root reacts to the haliwinkle.”

“But wouldn’t those ingredients combined just create yet another toxic component? One that is harmful to adults as well?”

“Yes, but that component is counteracted by…?”

He gave her a meaningful look and she looked back to the ingredient she had been about to add just moments before, eyes brightening with realisation. “Asphodel.”

“Indeed.”

_Of course._ It was so _simple._ “Why hasn’t this been done before? Why would we keep making a pain relief that is partly toxic when it can be fixed so easily?”

“It has been deemed unnecessary. The toxicity is flushed out of the body within a matter of hours, posing no long lasting harm at all. Fetuses and newborns, however, usually cannot handle longer than an hour before it affects their health negatively.

“ _Unnecessary?”_ Hermione said in outrage. “I know for a _fact_ that there are plenty of pregnant women out there in need of a safe pain relief. Does no one care that they are in pain?”

Professor Snape sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “The majority of Potion Masters in Britain, and in the world for that matter, are ancient old men who seem to believe that women are capable of and _should_ endure pain while carrying a child. They care for their own conservative notions and not much more.”

“But...” Hermione’s shoulders slumped just a fraction, her mind whirling. “You don’t share those views, do you?”

He snorted humourlessly. “Of course I don’t, Granger. It’s hardly a wizard’s place to tell a witch if her pain is valid or not and to believe otherwise is outdated and foolish.”

“How come you didn’t invent this potion earlier, then?”

His fists clenched at his sides.

“In case it escaped your notice, I’ve been busy for the past decade or so risking death by spying on a seemingly immortal megalomaniac. I didn’t have much time to help pregnant women, nor have I encountered many as I work at a bloody _school.”_

Hermione swallowed, shame burning hot over her body. “I’m sorry, sir… I didn’t mean to imply… I mean, I didn’t mean to say that you-”

“I know what you meant...” His sudden burst of anger was gone with a sigh and a dismissive wave of his hand.

“For what it’s worth, sir, I’m glad you taking the opportunity to help now. You don’t have to, but you _are._ I admire that.”

“I don’t like seeing women in pain, Granger. Despite what people might think.”

She wanted to argue, to tell him that not everyone thought of him only as the Death Eater he’d once been, that some, herself included, saw him for what he truly was. A war hero, a _good man,_ but he spoke before she had the chance to.

“Are you going to add the bitter root or are we going to let all those other pregnant women wait even longer to have a pain potion on the market?”

“Oh!” She jumped into action, hurrying to add the ingredient before the potion was spoiled, and soon enough she fell back into the routine of brewing. Another hour passed before a blue mist rose from the cauldron, indicating that it was finally finished.

Hermione smiled at the end result, pulling a hand through her hair as she gave out a pleased, but exhausted, huff.

Professor Snape nodded at her in approval. “You did well.”

She felt her chest swell with pride. “Thank you, sir. I’ll start cleaning up.”

“That is not needed. You should return to your room.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind helping!”

“Minerva would throttle me if she found out I’m overworking you,” he deadpanned. “I’m sure.”

Again, she wanted to argue, but now that she thought about it she _was_ quite tired and her back was aching more than she liked to admit. She rubbed her palm over the lower part of her spine. “If you say so, sir.”

“Are you in pain?” Professor Snape asked, brows knitted, and she shook her head.

“Not really, it just aches a bit. I’ll be fine after some sleep.”

His frown did not disappear. “Do you require more pain potion? There is more than enough for you to take a few extra, only five vials will go in for testing and the rest will stay in storage until the release is approved by the Ministry. It could be weeks before the potion is available in apothecaries. I have time to make more before that.”

“No, no! I’m fine. I think I have one more vial left in my room, I’ll manage with that,” she assured him with a smile. “I’ll be eagerly awaiting the release, though. It does wonders, Professor. Your work is impeccable.”

He seemed unsure how to take the compliment and only nodded once more. “Very well.”

She turned to leave, walking up to the door, but stopped as her hand touched the handle.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“May I come back sometime? To brew again? Or to watch how you do it?”

There was silence for a few seconds as they looked at each other and Hermione almost felt breathless again.

“You may,” he finally said and Hermione smiled.

“Thank you, sir. Goodnight.”

When she entered her room less than ten minutes later, three new vials of pain relief potion stood waiting on her bedside table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so I just made up that whole thing with the potion ingredients reacting to each other so in case u are a potion expert and think "that doesn't make any sense!" just know that I was freestyling all that and simply trying to make it sound smart lol


	24. Bolt From the Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUPER SORRY for the wait guys! Work has been busy and last week when I finally found the time to write, my computer decided to mess with me, making it really hard to edit.  
> Anyway, this chapter isn't very long (classic for me, huh?) but I'll give you all some bonus chapters later this week! hope you like it!

“It’s no use!” Hermione exclaimed in frustration, closing the book with more force than usual. “I’ll never find a name that’s good enough!”

“Well, you can’t just leave her without a name,” Ginny said unhelpfully and Hermione sent her a glare.

“I _know_ that, but reading this book over and over again hardly helps!”

“What’s this? Hermione Granger disliking reading a book?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

Neville returned to the table, balancing a small tower of scripts and tomes in his arms. “Try these maybe?” he suggested.

“Are all of those books about _baby names?_ ” Ginny exclaimed in surprise. “Who knew the Hogwarts library was so well equipped for a surprise pregnancy...”

“These aren’t baby name books, but I thought they could be helpful anyway.”

Hermione plucked one out from the pile. “ _The Magical Origins of the Odyssey?”_

“Yeah, well… wizarding names are often inspired by Greek names, or Roman,” he explained and Ginny nodded, agreeing with him.

“True. Old books like that might actually prove useful.”

Hermione sighed. “Thank you but… I just feel like Greek and Roman names don’t have anything to do with _me_ or my family.”

She hated sounding so negative, her friends were only trying to help after all, but none of the suggestions so far had been _right._ She wanted it to feel like her mother had described. She wanted it to simply _click._

“You’re being too picky,” Ginny said and Hermione glared again.

“I think I’m allowed to be picky in this scenario. It’s my daughter’s _name_ we’re talking about!”

“I know, I just meant to say that perhaps you’re focusing too hard on the details? Try to find a name you _kind of_ like and then move on from there?”

“That’s easier said than done.”

“You still have time to think,” Neville said gently.

“Only barely. I’m 27 weeks along, what if she wants to come out early and I don’t have a name yet?”

“You _will_ have a name, don’t worry. You’ve been way too stressed out this past week.”

Hermione let her head drop in her hands.

“Everything is just happening so quickly… The NEWTS are only a few months away and I’m not even allowed to use magic to practise for them!”

“It’s too dangerous, Hermione,” Ginny mumbled. “Poppy gave you that rule for a reason: No advanced magic until she is born.”

“Yes I know.” Hermione sighed deeply. “I just feel restless when I’m only allowed to write essays and hand in assignments. I feel like I should be doing so much more, but I know that I can’t. And even if I _could_ , I’d probably be too tired to be able to manage it all. She’s just so much more active now, I can feel her moving every day and it’s surprisingly distracting.”

“The potions are still working, though, right?” Neville asked with a concerned frown. “You’re not in pain?”

“They are still working.” She smiled weakly at him in reassurance. “But the stairs in the castle are still taking its toll on my back, not to mention my ankles.”

“You should ask for more help from Winky!” Ginny said insistently. “She’s here to help you.”

“I don’t want to bother her too much. She brings me meals and books, that’s enough for now.”

“You shouldn’t exhaust yourself.”

“I’m not! I promise I’ll ask her for more help if I need it, alright?”

“You could also ask Snape for more potions,” Ginny suggested with a raised eyebrow and Neville snorted.

“Do you think she’d rather bother Snape than Winky?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard the news?”

“Ginny!” Hermione scolded, already feeling her face flushing scarlet. “Don’t you dare!”

“Hermione Granger has a _crush_ on her professor!”

“That’s not true!” Hermione said quickly, eternally grateful that she’d cast a silencing charm around them earlier.

“You… what?” Neville looked at her with wide eyes, his expression an odd mix between disgusted and fascinated.

“Ginny is being ridiculous, don’t listen to her.”

“I’m not being ridiculous! I’m being _perceptive_.”

“So just because I’ve helped him brew _once,_ I now have a crush?”

“Hermione, you should have seen yourself when you told me about it! You were blushing, looking all dreamy going _‘_ _Snape this, Snape that, bla bla bla.’”_

“I don’t sound like that.” Hermione crossed her arms. “And I was just complimenting his lab, not _him.”_

“I don’t know what to say...” Neville scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“You don’t have to say anything because it’s not true.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “You can deny it all you want, that won’t change a thing. Besides, the real juicy part isn’t that you fancy him, it’s that he fancies you back!”

“What?” Neville’s jaw dropped.

“He does _not!”_ Hermione insisted.

“What’s the matter with you, Hermione? Last time I mentioned this you didn’t seem to mind the notion at all!”

“That was different! You said he had a _soft spot_ for me, not that he fancied me. That’s not the same thing and now you’re taking this too far.”

“It… makes sense,” Neville spoke and Hermione gaped at him.

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean,” he began, looking mildly uncomfortable, “you’re both brilliant. If anyone matches you intellectually, it’d probably be him.”

“Are you saying… we’d make a good pair?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, to mention the fact that he was her Professor and that this discussion was entirely inappropriate, but the words caught in her throat as a shadow suddenly passed over them.

She looked over Neville’s shoulder, meeting the dark eyes of the Potions Master, feeling her cheeks heat up under his scrutiny. He raised one eyebrow and she cancelled the silencing charm with a quick wave of her wand.

“Good afternoon, Professor,” Ginny spoke first, sounding far too smug for Hermione’s liking.

Snape merely glanced at her, murmuring a greeting before looking back at Hermione. “Miss Granger. I came to inform you that I will be brewing another batch of one of the specialized potions this evening. You are welcome to observe the process.”

“Oh, um, I...” she stammered, struggling to find the right words, her tongue feeling clumsy in her mouth.

“Of course, if you are preoccupied...” His words lingered heavily in the air, his jaw clenching for a second, and Hermione hurriedly spoke.

“Yes! I mean, no...” _Get yourself together!_ She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath, trying to rid herself of her flustered thoughts long enough to form a coherent response. _“_ Yes, I’d love to join, sir. And no, I’m not preoccupied. What time shall I meet you?”

“7pm. Don’t be late.”

He then swept from the library, his robes billowing behind him, and Hermione felt Ginny recast the silencing charm.

She looked at her friends, placing a hand on her chest to calm her racing heart, and swallowed the lump that had settled in her throat.

“Alright… maybe I do have a crush.”


	25. Curiosity Killed the Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as promised, a bonus chapter!! and actually a kinda long one?
> 
> enjoy!!

The emotion swirling in his chest was familiar, the memories of the last time he’d felt it leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. Oh, he remembered this feeling all too well.

He really shouldn’t be comparing it.The situations couldn’t be more different.

He’d been a child when Lily entered his life, and his desperate heart had latched on to her as soon as she’d treated him with even the slightest bit of kindness. But it was in his past. It had been in his past for years now. He’d not given it a second thought since he’d hand-picked the memories for Potter during the final battle.

It was truly astounding how quickly the boy’s opinion of him had turned after witnessing a short glimpse of a tragic backstory.

But his childhood infatuation was hardly the same as this.

He knew he was an idiot for caring for Hermione Granger, for entertaining the thought that she enjoyed his company, for ever allowing his mind to focus on every good quality she possessed.

Despite the small quarrel during the brewing session they’d had, Severus found himself replaying those few hours with her over and over again in his head. A broken record. The antagonizing tension was a mere distraction from the wonders of watching her work, of hearing her passionately voice her thoughts even when they turned accusatory against him.

He’d let it go too far, he knew that. Curiosity had turned into obsession, later forming into protectiveness mingled with a possessive streak he could not reel in. He had no right to feel that way. None at all. He’d deluded himself into thinking that she would welcome it when in reality he knew she would not.

_Fool. You’re a fool, Severus._

The self-awareness of his feelings did not stop them from continuing to swirl within him, and the bitter taste only grew stronger.

Oh yes, jealousy still tasted the same.

How could he have forgotten about Longbottom? It seemed so long ago since the Prophet released that article, showing them embracing before walking back to the castle. _The perfect couple. War heroes._

His fists clenched.

How could he have allowed himself to feel this again? He’d felt it when James Potter first showed interest in Lily, and he felt it again now, raging inside him.

It was worse now, though. What sort of a man was he? 40 years old, besotted with the idea of his student, feeling murderous fury at the thought of her together with one of her peers.

_Lecherous old bastard._

He should send Granger a message right now, telling her she was no longer welcome to the brewing session. It would be the best for both of them if he distanced himself now. But he couldn’t seem to find the energy to fetch his quill, nor any parchment to write on.

And, of course, he was loathe of missing any chance to spend more time in her company.

He would simply have to control his jealousy, for her sake if not for his. Perhaps it would be easier once she graduated. Then he could be alone, free to wallow in self-pity. He could let her live her life with Longbottom, raise her child with him as if the boy was the father. He could do that, if only he could have a few more moments with her to remember.

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

6:58pm.

He stood from his desk, readying himself by taking a deep breath, and lastly forced an impassive look to fall over his face.

_Only a few more moments._

~~~

Hermione knocked on the door, nervousness creeping up her spine. She’d spent the last couple of hours huddled between dozens of pillows, Neville and Ginny keeping her company as she struggled to sort out her thoughts.

She’d admitted it now. She had a crush. Hermione Granger had a crush on Severus Snape.

It had all happened so fast. Less than a week ago she’d told herself to stay focused and not let any feelings grow, but it appeared they took root when she was not looking.

She’d discussed the ramifications of this development at length with her two friends. Ginny had been positively ecstatic that Hermione had finally given in, and Neville had, although clearly feeling awkward about the situation, offered his support.

Hermione wasn’t used to this sort of thing. Having crushes, or talking about them. Back when she’d first started fancying Ron she’d avoided talking to anyone about it, most of all Ginny. It would have been strange, Ron being Ginny’s brother and all.

This was different. It was new and exciting and… completely unattainable.

Hermione wasn’t a fool. She realised how stupid it was, to fancy _him_ of all people. It was a heartbreak waiting to happen. But she couldn’t help thinking ‘ _what if?’_

_What if he likes me back..._

It was a childish notion, a juvenile thought, but it was innocent enough. It was a distraction, a fun little game she could play in her head when the stress over her NEWTS and approaching birth became too much. She never needed to act upon her feelings, and perhaps that was fine.

She would graduate and, hopefully, be able to move on smoothly.

The game was more dangerous to play than she liked to admit and she preferred not to think about it too much. For now she would simply enjoy the few moments she had with him, and if she replayed them in her mind later, none would be the wiser.

The door opened and she entered.

~~~

“Have a seat, and do not move from your place until I say so,” he said, gesturing to a plush armchair standing in the corner as they entered the lab. Hermione noticed that it had not been there the last time she’d visited.

“May I ask why, sir?”

“The fumes at the first stages of this potion may be dangerous to your child. I will place a shield around you to protect you. You will have to observe from a distance.”

“Oh...” she nodded, understanding the situation, but a tinge of disappointment slipped through her voice. “Of course, sir.”

He glanced up at her as he began preparing his ingredients. “Worry not, Miss Granger. You will get the opportunity to observe in detail later.”

Heat rose to her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to sound petulant, sir. I apologise.”

“No need. You are over-excited, I expect nothing less from you.”

Hermione chose not to decipher if that was a compliment or an insult and instead simply sank down in the offered seat. A sigh of contentment escaped her, the softness of the armchair better than she’d imagined as it eased the discomfort that had recently spread in her back.

_Perhaps another potion is due…_

She fished out the vial from her bag and unstopped it, swallowing the contents in one gulp before returning the empty vial to her bag.

“How many vials do you go through in one day?” Professor Snape asked as he started the flame beneath the cauldron.

“About two, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. Occasionally I need three if I stay up later in the evening, like now. The stairs in Hogwarts are really taking their toll.”

He hummed in thought, but did not at her. “I will review the potion later to see if I can increase the potency.”

She smiled in response, even though he could not see it.

Silence then settled and Hermione let her eyes drift over him, watching in awe as he started brewing.

He was quick, the knife almost a blur as he sliced and chopped the ingredients, but incredibly precise. Even from afar she could tell how high the quality of his work was. And the way he seamlessly moved between the stations on his workbench was mesmerising. Nothing escaped his notice.

Hermione suddenly saw her mother’s comment about his attentiveness in an entirely different light.

After a time, the process seemed to slow down, creating a lull in the fast-paced brewing, and he began to unbutton his black outer robe. Hermione was helpless to the sight of his nimble fingers moving over each button, unable to tear her eyes away as he shrugged the heavy fabric off his shoulders.

He was left in his black trousers and a white button down, his change in attire as odd as it was attractive.

_Severus Snape is… attractive._ Oh, people would put her in St Mungo’s if she ever said that out loud, but it was true. He was graceful, and tall, and held a presence unlike any other. Strange that she began to notice that first now, with her crush already established without that insight.

Even with a hooked nose and sharp tongue, he was strikingly beautiful.

She watched with fascination as he rolled his sleeved up to his elbows, revealing his long pale forearms. It was a shame that she ruined the moment with a gasp as she spotted the dark mark.

He looked up sharply, as if he’d forgotten she was even there, and quickly pulled the sleeves back down. “I apologise, Miss Granger, for making you see that.”

“I… no, sir-” she stammered. “There is no need to apologize. I was surprised, that’s all.”

“Nonetheless,” he murmured and continued brewing, sleeves remaining down.

Hermione wanted to say something. She wanted to break into an impromptu speech about how scars from the past don’t define them and how he was a changed man, no longer the Death Eater he has once chosen to be, but she bit her tongue. Surely such a speech would only serve to annoy him. It was too Gryffindor.

“Have you thought of a name yet?” he asked abruptly and she blinked, having lost herself in her own thoughts.

“What?”

“A name. For the child.” He raised an eyebrow, simultaneously dropping a handful of lacewing flies into the cauldron.

_Ah. Changing the subject._

“Well… I’ve been trying, but it’s harder that it might seem. Ginny and Neville have been helping me, though, and-”

A jar of beetle eyes crashed to the floor and she jumped in surprise, eyes fastened on the shards littering the ground around his feet.

“Damn,” he muttered to himself and vanished the mess with a wave of his wand.

“Are you alright, sir?” she asked in a tentative voice, shaken by the accident.

“Perfectly,” he responded, jaw clenched in frustration. “Could you please fetch me another jar of beetle eyes. They are in the cupboard, third shelf, to the right.”

“Of course,” she responded. “Is it safe for me to approach the cauldron now, sir?”

“Yes.”

She nodded and walked over to the cupboard, finding the jar quickly and, unwilling to let the conversation die, she continued speaking, “As I was saying, Ginny and Neville have helped me look, but without much success. We’re working through a few Greek and Roman names that might fit.”

“I see,” he said simply.

As Hermione turned to him, beetle eyes in hand, her foot accidentally nudged something out from under the cupboard. She looked down and immediately recognised the item.

It was her book. Well, not _her_ book anymore. _His_ book.

_**Ancient Potions:** an Analysis of the Origins of Modern Potion Making._

What was it doing on the floor? All battered and dusty. It looked like… it looked like it had been thrown carelessly across the room.

Hermione stared at it, feeling her mouth go dry.

“Miss Granger. I could use those beetle eyes now,” Professor Snape said, once again focused on his brewing. Hermione felt like she was in a daze as she walked over to him, handing the jar over.

_He just… threw it away? Without a care?_

The thought stabbed at her gut and she felt tears welling in her eyes.

_No. Don’t cry. Not here._

“I’m sorry, sir. I think I need to go back to my room now. I’m feeling quite tired.”

She could feel him looking at her, but she stared down at her feet, unable to bring herself to meet his eyes. If she did, the tears would overflow.

“Do you require assistance? The potion is stable enough to be put under a stasis.”

“No, no. I’m fine.” She was already walking back to the armchair, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll just call Winky if I need any help. Thank you for your time, sir. Goodnight.”

She barely made it out to the corridor before she broke down in heaving sobs, chest tightening with each gasping breath.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! You knew something like this would happen!_

“Winky,” she cried and the dutiful elf appeared.

“Is Miss alright?” Winky asked with a concerned frown. Hermione shook her head.

“Please take me back to my room.”

The elf did as bid and suddenly she was standing at the foot of her own bed, meeting Ginny’s surprised eyes.

“Hermione? What happened?”

They had planned this night so well. Ginny would wait in Hermione’s room and once Hermione returned from brewing they could have a sleepover. They could gossip and giggle and swoon and do all those fun things girls do after they’ve spent time with a boy they fancy.

Hermione should have known it wouldn’t turn out that way.

“You were wrong, Ginny,” Hermione whispered, awkwardly shuffling on the bed so she could rest her head against Ginny’s shoulder. “He doesn’t like me back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof, sorry for the angst lmao


	26. The Last Straw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took AGES for me to finish, probabaly because there was so much to cover and none of my approaches seemed quite right. I finally settled for this version though, and I think it turned out pretty good!
> 
> I hope you like it! Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster lol

_Fuck._

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

He got it all wrong. He got it all so bloody wrong. He’d wasted the entire night, _hours,_ berating himself for the _wrong fucking reason._

Showing her his dark mark had been an accident and when she’d left shortly after he’d been sure it was in disgust. She’d clearly been abruptly reminded that he was Death Eater and would always be one. He could never escape his past. He hadn’t blamed her for leaving then, instead he blamed himself.

But now, once again standing in his lab to finish that damn potion that was still in stasis from the night before, he realised his mistake.

_The book._

How in the bloody hell hadn’t he noticed that she’d found the old book he’d discarded? He was a Slytherin for Merlin’s sake! Details like that weren’t supposed go unnoticed by him.

And now he’d wasted precious time drowning himself in self-pity. Time he could have spent explaining, making her see that it was all just a horrible misunderstanding.

“Winky!” he called, suddenly desperate to act, to _do something._

The elf appeared with a deafening crack, so loud that he nearly flinched from the sound.

“Winky does not answer to you!” the elf spat, glaring at him in anger.

His heart was thumping heavily in his chest, knowing that if the elf was this angry, he’d messed up even more than he thought.

“I know, I know. Just, tell me, is Miss Granger alright?”

“Miss is not alright!”

_Fucking hell._

“I… please tell her I need to speak with her, I need to explain and-”

The elf disappeared with yet another crack.

He raked his fingers through his hair in frustration and started pacing. What was he supposed to do now? The elf wouldn’t even let him finish his sentence!

Should he go find her room, knock on the door and not leave until she listened to him, like he had with Lily all those years ago?

_No._

That hadn’t worked out at all, and he absolutely refused to sink down to that level again.

What, then? He could hardly wait until she was in his class. He wouldn’t be able to focus and wait until the lesson was over, and he certainly couldn’t explain everything with the other students there.

He remained in his lab, continuing to pace, occasionally rubbing a hand over his tired face as the minutes ticked by.

Then he felt it. A ripple in his wards.

He stopped in surprise and looked up, meeting the furious eyes of Hermione Granger.

She was standing right inside the open door, arms crossed over her chest, her hair wild with anger as blue bolts of electric magic seemed to run through each curl.

He ought to say something. To remind her that her magic could still be unstable and that she needed to calm down. But he was silent. He could do nothing but stare, for even though she looked like a mess with red-rimmed eyes, rumpled clothes, and a glare so sharp it could cut glass, she was beautiful.

“How dare you?” she muttered, anger on the verge of boiling over in her voice.

He swallowed thickly. “Miss Granger, allow me to explain-”

“How dare you summon _my elf_ and then _demand_ that I come down here to see you?”

By Merlin, she was a sight to behold.

“It was merely a request, I’d never demand that-”

She interrupted him again. “What do you want from me, Professor?”

The question took him aback and the silence that followed was heavy with tension.

“Pardon?” he finally managed to speak, urging her to clarify.

“What do you _want?_ ” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in a hopeless gesture. “Why do you keep making these potions for me?”

He frowned. “I’ve already told you, I don’t enjoy seeing women in pain.”

“Why not let me buy them in the apothecary like everyone else then! They’re almost out on the market already, I could have waited for that!”

Words tumbled from his lips without second thought. “I felt it unnecessary to wait. You are in the castle already, surely it’s easier for you to-”

She scoffed. “So I’m a guinea pig then? Just a way for you to _test_ your bloody potions?”

“No! I’d never use you, or anyone else, like that!”

“Then _why_ would you keep insisting on-”

“It’s an apology!” he finally snapped to stop her ridiculous accusations, first now noticing how his chest was heaving in agitation.

She looked at him for a moment and then shook her head in confusion. “What?”

“It’s a pathetic excuse for an apology.” _Pride be damned._ “I’ve treated you horribly for _years_ , Granger. And I never stopped, not until I almost killed you because I didn’t have the fucking wits to put the pieces together and realise you were _pregnant_. I’ve been trying to make amends, but it appears I don’t know how to do that correctly either.”

She just kept staring, the confused look still etched on her features.

“Well?” he snapped, impatience roaring within him in the wait for a response.

“So it was never truly about me then?” she finally said, and now it was his turn to be confused.

“What do you mean?”

“You were just trying to get rid of your guilt? That’s why you’ve been helping me?”

Severus reared back, feeling a heavy weight slam into his ribs.

_No. No, she has it all wrong._

“Thank you for your help so far, Professor,” she continued. “But from now on I must decline any further assistance from your part. I prefer to surround myself with people who actually care about _me,_ and not people who are just putting on an act to make themselves feel better.”

She turned to leave, and he felt his heart stutter painfully.

“Wait!” he called and closed the door with a wave of wandless magic. Suddenly he was standing right beside her, hand reaching out to grab her arm, but he missed just as she whirled around to face him.

She stepped back in surprise at his closeness before the anger returned to her eyes full-force. “I want to leave, sir.”

“Just… please,” he murmured, choking out the last word. It wasn’t like him to beg, but if that’s what it would take to keep her attention, he’d do it until his voice gave in. “Listen to me. Just let me explain.”

She seemed to contemplate it, eyes quickly roaming over him where he stood, before crossing her arms again. “Fine. Go on then.”

“You’re right. Guilt does play a part in this, but not in the way that you think _._ ” His fingers raked through his hair for the umpteenth time that morning and he was sure he looked even more of a mess than she did.

“Guilt is what drives me, perhaps it always has in one form or another, but the end goal is most certainly not _forgiveness_. I know that forgiveness can be unattainable, I do not like to fool myself into thinking otherwise. But my goal was, and _is,_ only to help you.”

Her arms remained crossed, but it seemed a protective gesture more than anything else. She was holding onto herself for support, and gazing at him with an odd sort of sadness. “With all due respect, sir, you don’t even _like_ me. You’ve made that quite clear. So why bother?”

The weight in his chest was crushing. “Are you referring to the book you found? _Ancient Potions_? The one you gave to me?”

She avoided his eyes, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. It was silly of me to get upset. You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, I just thought at least you’d have the decency to not leave it where I’d come across it.”

Tears glittered on her lashes as she blinked, and Severus wanted more than anything to wipe them away. This was all his fault, this entire mess.

_This is what happens to women you care about. They get hurt, and you have no idea how to truly fix it._

“The book you found was an old copy of mine. It was not the gift you gave to me.” Her eyes snapped up to his and he sucked in a deep breath at their intensity. “I kept your copy, replacing the old one. I had no more use of it.”

To prove his point he summoned both books, holding them up for her to see. She studied them quickly, a hundred emotions flickering over her face before she looked at him again. He sent the books away with a quick wave.

“You really kept it?” Her face had never looked so open, so trusting, to him. He wanted to confess to her, then. To tell her how precious the gift was to him, how precious _she_ was. How he longed for her presence, for her smile and her laughter.

He wanted to confess how he was falling for her, despite his efforts not to.

_Fool._

“It is.” He swallowed down the true words that wanted to come out. “In truth, your choice of gift proved to me what I had long thought.”

“And what is that?” she whispered.

“That you have an exceptional mind, and that your talents are wasted in juvenile school classes.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “That’s why you let me join you when brewing? You think I have… potential?”

“Indeed.” He fought to keep his face stoic. He’d already revealed too much to her, now was the time to create distance. He did not wish to remain so vulnerable around her, knowing the power she held over him.

“You’ve… You’ve never told me that before, sir.”

“I didn’t want to fuel your ego,” he deadpanned and she laughed in surprise. The sound made his heart flutter.

“Fair enough,” she sighed and wrung her hands for a moment. “I apologise for my outburst, Professor. It was highly unprofessional and-”

He held up a hand and she quieted. “No need. I’m the one who should apologise. I should have communicated my… intentions... better.”

“Thank you, sir, but I realise that I also must take responsibility for this miscommunication. I admit that… well, I’ve held you to a different standard than I have certain other Professors.” He raised an eyebrow in question, watching with interest as her cheeks tinged pink. “I hope you’re not opposed to the idea but… I’d begun to think of you as a friend.”

_Friend? She would want_ me _as her friend?_

“You...” he wasn’t sure how to continue the sentence.

“I understand if you think it’s strange,” she babbled to fill the silence. “But despite the circumstances, you were a part of the little group of confidantes I had, before the news of my pregnancy broke. That means something… to me at least.”

“I...I do find it strange,” he paused to think, noting how her face fell, and hastily continued. “But I am not, as you said, _opposed_ to the idea.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit up.

“As I’ve just stated, I find your intellect to be promising, and you are far different from the students you call peers. You are an adult, Miss Granger, and you are already friendly with Minerva and Poppy. I see no reason why you could not be so with me as well… if you were so inclined.”

He only had time to catch a glimpse of her radiant smile before her arms had wrapped around his neck, enveloping him in a crushing embrace. Her curls tickled his nose, her sighing breath like music in his ear.

He was almost sure she’d be able to feel his heart thumping, despite her pregnant belly keeping her at an odd angled distance.

“Sorry, sir.” She pulled back all too soon, before his mind had even processed that he ought to have wrapped his arms around her as well. “Perhaps that was overdoing it...”

“Quite,” he murmured, still in a slight daze.

“Am… Am I still welcome to join your brewing sessions?” she asked hesitantly and his mind cleared.

“Certainly. Although...” he cleared his throat and stepped back, an idea fresh in his mind _._ “Miss Granger…?”

“Yes?” she questioned as he paused.

“Do you wish to continue your classes as normal?”

“Um.” She frowned, shrugging. “I don’t see what else I would do, sir.”

“Why did you return to Hogwarts this year?”

“I wanted to take my NEWTs, sir.”

“Are you aware that you can take your NEWTs independently?”

“Yes, but I didn’t want to miss out on my classes...”

“Classes that you’re not even allowed to practise magic in?”

“It wasn’t exactly a part of the plan that my magic would become so… unstable during the pregnancy.” She blushed indignantly. “What are you implying, Professor?”

“I’m merely suggesting that, maybe, an independent study of the relevant subjects would do you more good than continuing as you are currently. Although your essays are of excellent quality, they do not challenge you as they should.”

It was true. She needed a change, anyone could see that. He only hoped she could see that too, for her own sake.

She swallowed. “I… I suppose I have been a bit bored lately. But I would still require a supervisor, and I’d like to remain in the school until the end of the year.”

“I’m sure Minerva would allow you to stay, as well as fill the position as your supervisor. I also offer my help should you wish it.”

“It’s a big change,” she murmured hesitantly.

“Is it?” he countered with a raised eyebrow, his eyes drawn to the way she bit her lip in thought.

_Stop that. F_ _ocus._

“You’re right,” she finally spoke with a firm nod. “I’ll speak with Minerva later today.”

“Why wait?” he opened the door and gestured for her to follow him to his office, heading for the floo.

For once, he felt like he was truly helping her flourish as she should, and this time no guilt was there to drive him.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments! They keep me going!
> 
> I update every Thursday as long as everything works out the way I've planned it ;)


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